


Bare Boating - Dry Dock

by whiteroses77



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Smallville
Genre: Amnesia, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-25
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 06:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteroses77/pseuds/whiteroses77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three men on a boat, but what exactly are they doing there. And what are they going to do when they get home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bare Boating 1/4

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone I just want to explain a little. After finishing such a long work as the Anteros series, it took me a while to get out of the headspace of that version of Bruce and Clark. So I looked to my previous stories to see if I thought any of them needed a sequel or a continuation. I found one in this story 'Bare Boating' 
> 
> Originally I left the ending ambiguous even though I had the urge to and knew how it should end. At the time I wrote it I was dedicated to giving Clark/Oliver some love. 
> 
> I'll explain for Batman fans who don't know. During the years that Smallville the series was on TV, the writers were keen to bring Bruce on as a guest star, because obviously Clark and Bruce have always had a connection in other media; the comics and animations. Well the powers that be wouldn't let them have Bruce, because he already had his own franchise with the Nolan movies. However they did let them have Green Arrow, obviously as a stand in for Bruce, and over the course of five years, the last half of the series, Clark and Oliver went from guys that worked together sometimes and were friendly but sometimes didn't agree, to each other's closest male friend. Clark eventually meets Bruce in the follow up comics series. Anyway the point is, after seeing Clark and Oliver going through so much, and getting so close I believe they deserved some love. 
> 
> I've written Clark/Oliver stories, and I've written a couple threesomes, such as this one.
> 
> I realise a lot of Superbat fans don't want to see them cavorting with anyone else, but I've written this continuation to Bare Boating called Dry Dock, and hope you give it a try and enjoy the ending that I always imagined. ;D
> 
> I'm adding the chapters to Bare Boating because it's the end of that story.

TITLE: Bare Boating 1/4  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce/Oliver   
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORDCOUNT: 3565  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Three men on a boat, but what exactly are they doing there.

~G~

He awoke slowly. He cringed as sunlight flooded his eyelids. He held his hand out to shield his face from the glare. He opened one eye and squinted. Where the hell was he? All he could see was endless blue sky. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. He sat up and looked around. He could see that he had been laying on wooden decking. He looked behind him, and saw a cabin, and he realised he was on a boat, or to be more precise a yacht. He stood up and realised he was at sea with no land in sight. 

He frowned. There was something about being adrift at sea that made him nervous, but right at this particular moment, he had no clue as to why. He scrubbed his face with his hand. Actually, right now he had no clue about anything. He couldn’t even remember his own name.

He began a search of the yacht, looking for any clue about what was going on. There didn’t seem to be any crewmembers. As he entered the living area, he came across a mirror. He looked at the reflection, white shirt, tanned, handsome face, warm brown eyes staring back at him. He ran his hand through sun kissed blond hair. He gave the reflection a pleased smile. He might not remember his identity, but he couldn’t be happier with his countenance. 

He continued on, until he found the wheelhouse. There he finally found life, a dark haired figured wearing dark clothes slumped over the helm controls. He approached him, and shook his shoulder. The man woke with a start, and the next thing he knew he was grabbed around his throat. His instincts took over, and he grasped the hand and arm and twisted out of the hold, and demanded, “What the fuck?”

The dark haired male demanded, “Who are you?”

The blond asked, “You don’t know me?”

The brunet looked thoughtful, “No, I don’t remember anything.”

He asked in surprise, “So your first reaction is to try to throttle me?”

The man shrugged, “I don’t know, it was instinctive, I guess.”

The blond squinted at him, and then explained, “I don’t remember anything either. I woke up outside. We’re on a yacht, with no crew, and with no land in sight.”

“What could have happened?” the brunette wondered.

“I have no idea.” He admitted, “I’ve been exploring, trying to figure things out. You are the first sign of life I’ve found.”

The brunet took in his surroundings. “Seeing as though I’m at the helm I’d assume this is my yacht.”

He rolled his eyes, “I don’t care who owns the boat. We could have easily hired it for a week or weekend.”

The brunet looked slightly smug. “You keep thinking that, if it makes you feel better.”

He narrowed his eyes at him, “If you’re normally like this, I don’t get why we’re friends.”

The brunet grinned, “You assume we are friends?”

“Well, we are on a yacht, on some kind of jaunt. I think it’s safe to assume we’re friends.”

“I support your deductions.”

He looked at him wide-eyed, “Uh-uh” 

~*~

They continued their search together, finding nothing that could explain their situation, only some equipment that neither of them could explain the usage of, and some odd pieces of torn blue fabric littering the hallway.

The brunet turned to him, “No fishing tackle.”

“What…?”

“It was your supposition that we were on a jaunt, the most obvious would be fishing, but there’s no fishing equipment.”

“There are other reasons for guys to vacation together.”

The man questioned, “Such as?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, bachelor party.”

The brunet raised a dark eyebrow, “Just you and me? What fun?”

The blond shook his head with exasperation. Then he opened the next door. His eyes widened. “Fuck!”

The brunet ducked his head around the doorway to look as well, “God damn, look at that!”

The blond nodded, “I’m looking.”

There lying on a bed, was the jaw dropping sight of a gorgeous, muscled figure. The brunet was naked apart from a pair of tiny red hot pants and a pair of knee-high red patent leather boots.

They glanced at each other and the brunet commented, “That’s why there’s no fishing tackle.”

The blond swallowed, “You think that…”

“That this jaunt is about him? Just look at him.”

The blond chuckled, “Which one of us, do you think is getting married?”

The brunet leered, “Judging by both our reactions to him, neither of us should be getting married to a woman.”

The blond smirked, “You don’t have to be marrying a woman to get married these days.” Then a horrible thought came to him. “You don’t think it’s us do you, he might be the last hurrah, like a treat.” He asked, pointing to the beauty on the bed.

“I wouldn’t like to speculate too much. It could cause problems for us, if or when we regain our memories.”

He smirked, “Is that your way of skirting the issue.”

“Just because we’re here, doesn’t mean our ideas are a realistic interpretation of what we are seeing.”

He pointed at the bed again, “Look at him, explain that outfit. He’s either a stripper or a gigolo. Why else would he be here, lying on ‘your’ bed, on ‘your’ yacht?”

The brunet looked at the bed. His eyes taking in the impressive figure, he licked his lips, “We should wake him, there is a chance he still has his memory.”

He nodded his agreement and they both approached the bed. He reached out as he had done with his other companion, and shook his shoulder, on guard in case his reaction was as violent as the other one’s was. The raven-haired male, however, blinked awake slowly. Then his blue eyes flickered between them, he said softly, “Where am I?”

The brunet answered gently, “It’s okay. Don’t you have any idea where or who you are?”

He was surprised at the tenderness the brunet was showing, that up until now, the blond had seen no sign of before. 

The man on the bed shook his head, his dark locks bouncing a little, “No.” then he realised his undressed state. He arose from the bed, searched for, and found a full-length mirror. He gazed at himself, turning this way, then that way, he pulled at his shorts. “Why am I dressed like this?”

He glanced at the brunet, who looked mesmerised by the display. He began, “We’re not really sure, we thought maybe you were a strip…” 

He was cut off by the brunet, “Assumptions.”

Their ebony-haired companion raised an eyebrow, “Stripper… you were going to say stripper?” He looked at his reflection again, he turned and looked at his ass in the mirror, he pointed his toes, then he smiled, “I do love these boots, and I do look good in them.”

The blond responded automatically, “Yes, you do.”

His companion looked him over slowly, and then held his gaze, “Thanks. So… where are we?”

He revealed, “We’re on a yacht, in the middle of the ocean. We all seem to be suffering amnesia; we don’t know what’s going on either. We think we were maybe on a little vacation, or something.”

“So do we know our names?” The blond and brunet both shook their heads in the negative. “Well we need to figure out something to call each other.” 

His attention turned to the closet, “I think I need something to wear as well.” He opened the closet door, looked inside and then he told them, “Guys, I think you might be right about me.” He pulled an outfit out of the closet. It was comprised of green and black leather. “Look at this.” Then he returned to the closet, “Wow, check these out.” He showed them a pair of long black leather gloves. Then he looked thoughtful, “But why would I bring my stage outfits on vacation?”

The blond and brunet caught each other’s gazes, neither wanting to admit their theory about him being hired entertainment. So they both shrugged their shoulders. 

~*~

They had left him to get dressed, and they had returned to the wheelhouse, trying to figure out where in the world they were and if either of them knew how to sail a yacht.

After a few minutes, their companion joined them. He was wearing hip hugging jeans and no shirt, “Hey guys, I’ve been thinking about what we can call each other…” The blond couldn’t help taking in the view, as his eyes devoured him. The man smiled at him and continued, “I think we should call ourselves after authors. We could call you, Oscar.” motioning toward him.

The brunet raised an eyebrow. “As in Oscar Wilde, that’s quite an idea for a stripper to come up with.”

The blond didn’t know if he should be embarrassed by the obvious attraction he must be showing to be named so. His attention was drawn back to the conversation of the brunets.

“Maybe I have a lot of spare time to read, you know during the day.” He continued with a smile, “You don’t speak much, but I can feel your presence when we are in the same room, so you would be Byron. Mad, bad, and dangerous to know, I think.” 

There was a barb of tension as they held their gaze, and the brunet asked, “What about you?”

“I was leaning towards Marlowe, the much speculated about, but still enigmatic figure.”

The brunet smiled slowly, “Christopher or do you prefer Kit?”

He grinned, “Whichever you like.”

The blond spoke up, “Well, I prefer Kit.”

“So are we all agreed?”

“Agreed.” they said as one.

~*~

It was with relief that they realised that Byron had some experience piloting a yacht, and after some detective work, put them on a course they hoped would take them to land. Oscar and Kit went to the galley to discover if there was any food. 

They found some basic supplies, however Oscar was surprised there were no luxury goods, maybe the theory of them chartering the yacht was the more accurate one. He smiled to himself, it was starting to look like Byron was wrong and this wasn’t his boat after all.

As Kit took it upon himself to cook breakfast, Oscar just enjoyed the view. He really was something to look at. Even though they didn’t remember the true nature of their cruise, and also didn’t know their connections to each other, Oscar was pretty confident in the fact that there was an attraction between himself and Kit, which he was certainly willing to explore, memory or no memory.

Kit turned away from the stove for a moment, and they caught each other’s gaze and Kit smiled brightly at him. Oscar suggested, “Seeing as though we’re no use at the helm, do you want to do some sunbathing with me later on?”

Kit nodded, “Well from what you told me, there doesn’t seem to be much else to do on-board, and I’d like to have some fun on our vacation. We will probably have to see some doctors or someone when we get back to land, so we can figure out why we all have amnesia.”

Oscar agreed, “It is weird, isn’t it. I mean what could make all of us lose our memories at the same time?”

Kit shrugged, “I don’t know, drugs maybe?”

“You think we’re suffering from the after-effects of some sort of drugs binge?”

“We were obviously here to party. What do you suggest?”

Bryon entered the galley. “I suggest you two don’t let your imaginations run wild.”

Kit gave Byron a slow smile, “I get the feeling you never let yourself get wild over anything.” Byron held his gaze and Kit licked his lips and then continued, “That’s too bad, I’d really love to be there to see it.”

Byron smirked, “You must be really good at your job. I bet you make a lot of money with that mouth of yours.”

Oscar stared at Byron in shock, even if their theories about Kit were true, there was no need for him to be insulting. He turned his gaze to Kit, who looked stunned himself, he swallowed, and then he chuckled, “Well at least I now know what you think of me, and there I was thinking we could have a good time together. I guess I was wrong.”

Kit turned back to the stove and Oscar saw Byron look despondent, as if he had just realised that he’d lost out on an opportunity. Byron glanced at him and Oscar shrugged at him, “Making assumptions.”

~*~

Oscar and Kit did as they had agreed upon, they were laid out on the deck sunbathing. Kit was almost glowing in the sunlight. He looked absolutely gorgeous. Oscar apologised, “I’m sorry about what Byron said to you earlier.”

Kit turned on his side, held himself up on his elbow, and looked at him, “Do you think the same. Do you think I’m a hooker?”

Oscar told him truthfully, “I don’t know, it’s just the way we found you, on the bed, wearing that outfit, the fact that there’s only the three of us here on-board, I admit I thought you might have been some sort of special treat.”

Kit squinted through the sunshine, “A treat for who?”

Oscar chuckled lightly, “I thought one of us might be getting married, or maybe both.”

“Both…? You mean you think you and Byron are a couple?”

Oscar turned on his side to face him. “I don’t know, but if my attraction to you is any indication, I don’t think our relationship will survive this trip.”

Kit smiled slyly, “You really like me, huh?”

Oscar nodded, “Oh, absolutely.”

Kit’s luminous eyes sparkled at him, “I like you too.”

Oscar leaned over, but just before their lips met, Kit asked, “What if you’re wrong? What if you have a wife waiting at home?”

Oscar grinned, “I’ve got amnesia. I’ve got the perfect excuse.” He leaned in again, and this time Kit met him halfway. Oscar ran his tongue over full lips and Kit opened his mouth for him. He flicked his tongue inside, he groaned as Kit licked back. Oscar pulled Kit further into his embrace, and Kit ran his hands down Oscar’s back to his ass. They moaned into each other’s mouths and deepened the kiss. 

A shocked gasp caught their attention and they broke the kiss and looked up. Byron just stared down at them, and then he grimaced, and turned and walked away towards the wheelhouse.

Oscar and Kit returned their gazes to each other. Kit asked, “Do you want to go after him, after all one of your theories is that you are a couple?”

Oscar knew what Kit was saying could be true, that if he didn’t go he could be ruining his real-life but he was willing to take the chance. He shrugged. “That theory also includes you as a treat.”

Kit raised an eyebrow, “You think the treat is for you?”

“Yes I do or maybe for both of us. We might have been supposed to share you.”

Kit licked his lips and his gaze strayed to the wheelhouse for a second. Oscar glanced down between them and saw the evidence of Kit’s desire, straining the fabric of his pants. Oscar observed, “I guess you have no problems with that?”

Kit smoothed his hand over Oscar’s shoulder, his bicep, “I know it’s probably wrong in this situation. I don’t know who I am, and I’m alone with two handsome strangers but the idea is making me so fucking hard.” 

Oscar groaned, he leaned back in and they restarted their kiss with even more passion. As their hands explored, they divested each other of their pants so they were both naked on the deck of the yacht. The sun beat down on them. Kit’s fingers explored between Oscar’s ass cheeks, and Oscar groaned. Kit whispered against his throat, “Can I fuck you?”

Oscar gazed at him in surprise. “I thought you were supposed to be the treat for me?”

Kit’s eyes brightened, “Maybe I am, but I could fuck you so good.” He stroked his impressive cock as Oscar watched, he asked, “Wouldn’t you like that?”

While Oscar’s brain was trying to come up with an answer, his cock flexing answered for him, and Kit smiled, “So you’re a size queen, lucky me.”

Oscar grinned. He glanced down at Kit. “No, lucky me.”

~B~

Byron was sitting in the wheelhouse. He checked the navigational instruments for the umpteenth time. He was trying to forget about what he had witnessed before.

How could anyone even consider doing that, kissing a stranger while having no clue about what was really going on? Oh, he knew they had their theories, but none of them knew for sure.

It was Kit that he was most in wonder of, waking up discovering he is possibly a stripper, or even worse yet wholehearted throwing himself into proving it. Giving Byron the come on, yet now he was out there with his tongue down Oscar’s throat. 

Byron let out a calming breath, he wasn’t jealous. 

Why should he be? After all, it wasn’t as if Kit was the most beautiful thing, he’d ever seen. He laughed to himself at the irony, actually with his amnesia, he technically was the most beautiful thing he could remember seeing. 

But that didn’t change the tension he felt every time they locked gazes, eyes that promised him everything. Then to make matters worse, what he’d said earlier, he hadn’t even meant it as an insult, but that was how it had been taken, and now Kit was out there with Oscar. He gazed at the autopilot controls again. His own morbid curiosity made his decision for him to return to the deck and see what they were up to now.

~*~

He came upon them, his eyes widening at the sight before him. They had progressed further than he had expected. They were both naked. Oscar was flat on his stomach with Kit lying between his thighs. Oscar moaned as Kit swept his tongue between his ass cheeks. Byron was both shocked at the wanton display and aroused. Kit glanced up from his task and made eye contact with him. He hummed against Oscar, and Oscar moaned again. Kit held his gaze as he redoubled his efforts. 

Byron took a fortifying breath, and then found a chair and took a seat, his gaze never leaving Kit. 

Kit pulled away and ran his hands over Oscar’s muscled tanned flesh. He slapped him on the ass-cheek, “Will you pass me the sunscreen?”

Oscar groaned. Then he stretched his arm out searching around until he found the bottle, then passed it over his shoulder. He laughed, “Are we that lubrication poor?”

“We never found any during the search.” Kit answered.

Byron spoke up, “Doesn’t that fly in the face of your theory?”

Oscar looked up in surprise; obviously, he hadn’t known they had an audience. He quickly regained his composure, “If we discount the orgy theory, and the fishing, what are we left with?”

Byron shrugged, and Kit asked, “If you are worried that we will regret this when we regain our memories, we can stop now, before we go too far.”

Oscar looked over his shoulder at Kit. “I think if we’re going to regret anything, then what we’ve already done is probably already too far, we might as well be thoroughly ashamed.”

Kit grinned, “I agree.” and then he opened the bottle of sunscreen and poured some between Oscar’s cheeks. Oscar jumped at the coolness of the liquid, but sighed when Kit probed his ass with his fingers. 

Then Kit stroked his cock, and made eye contact with Byron again and positioned himself and then slid into Oscar. Oscar spread his legs and pushed back for it, groaning, “Shit, you’re fucking big, but you feel so fucking good.”

Kit smirked, “So you like that, huh?”

Oscar nodded, “Oh, yeah, I do.”

Kit braced himself and quickened his rhythm, Byron found himself mesmerised, as he watched Kit’s body move over Oscar. As Kit’s ass flexed as he continued to thrust into him, Oscar was moaning incessantly, Byron hardened as he watched. Kit smiled as he noticed the obvious bulge in his pants. “Would you like me to help you out with that?” he offered licking his lips.

God, he wanted to, but there was something telling him not to, that the circumstances they were in might lend themselves to frivolity but acting on purely physical desires wasn’t the right thing to do. He stared at Kit and Kit gave him a coaxing smile in return. 

When Byron shook his slowly, telling him no, and Kit looked disappointed. He turned away and gave his full attention to Oscar, leaning in closer and kissing his shoulders and intensifying his thrusts; Oscar started a litany of curses and pleas for Kit to fuck him more and harder.

Byron had to leave them to it. He couldn’t stand to watch anymore.

 

To be continued


	2. Bareboating 2/4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byron acts on his jealousy

TITLE: Bare Boating 2/4  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce/Oliver   
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORDCOUNT: 3,046  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Three men on a boat with amnesia.

~B~

They had a lunch of sandwiches and soup, which was one of the only things they could put together with what they had found. It made Byron wonder what kind of trip they were on exactly. Afterwards, Kit had gone for a nap and Byron and Oscar were left alone. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at him. Oscar scowled at him, “What the hell is your problem?”

Well that pissed him off, “My problem is that I’m trapped on a boat with a couple of fools. I don’t know how you could do that. We don’t know anything about each other, we don’t know why we have amnesia, and you two start fucking around.”

Oscar smirked, “It sounds like you’re jealous to me.”

Byron’s brow creased, “Why exactly would I be jealous?”

“Because you want him and can’t have him, and I already have.”

He really didn’t want to get into a pissing contest with him, but there was something about this guy that just rubbed him the wrong way. He replied, “Well it must’ve escaped your notice because he wants me just as much as he wants you maybe even more.”

Oscar looked at him smugly, “If that’s what you think, why haven’t you had him.”

He narrowed his eyes at him and exclaimed, “We don’t know anything about each other, or why we’re here. I turned him down because it’s the right thing to do, unlike you, who had your ass in the air.”

Oscar studied him for a moment and then he laughed, “Well I feel sorry for you, you sad son of a bitch. Yeah, I had my ass in the air, and he was fucking unbelievable. Do you want to know how hard he made me come?” Byron sneered at him but Oscar continued, “You know what, next time I’m going to have that ass as well. You can watch that too.” 

Anger boiled inside him and he lashed out, punching Oscar in the face. The blond withstood it and rubbed his jaw, “Nice shot, but it doesn’t change a thing.” 

Oscar walked away up to the deck.

~*~

It had preyed on his mind all day, Kit and Oscar had spent the rest of the day chatting like friends, but Byron knew that eventually, things were going to get sexual between them again. He decided he had to do something. Why should he deny himself what he wanted, especially not when both Kit and Oscar did not intend to stop their sexual escapades? 

~*~

It was getting close to bedtime, and Byron couldn’t stand the idea that Kit and Oscar would choose to sleep in the same bed, while he was alone in another cabin. When Kit went for a shower, Byron entered and waited for him in the adjoining bedroom. As Kit exited the shower room with only a towel around his hips, he came to a sudden halt when he saw Byron sitting on the bed. Kit glanced down Byron’s body slowly, and asked him, “What do you want?”

Byron told him, “You know what I want, don’t you?”

Kit smiled smugly, “You turned me down.”

He told him, “I didn’t think it was the right thing to do in the circumstances we’re in.”

“So what are you doing here, our circumstances are the same they haven’t changed?”

“I couldn’t stand by anymore, and let him have you.”

Kit smirked, “You didn’t have to stand by. You could have already had me earlier.”

He told him honestly, “I didn’t want to share you with him.”

Kit approached the bed, “You don’t want to share, but you’re willing to take turns with me.”

Byron gazed up at him, “I’d rather not even do that.”

Kit smiled secretly at him, “But I like Oscar. If you want me, you are going to have to make a choice one or the other.”

“And that’s that.”

Kit moved closer and knelt down on the mattress, straddling Byron’s legs. “What are you willing to do to have me?”

Byron admired the man before him, offering himself to him. He reached out and grasped Kit’s forearm and pulled him down to him, he took his mouth in a searing kiss. Kit responded enthusiastically. A groan rumbled through his chest at how good it felt. Kit smiled into the kiss and pushed his hand down between them, he cupped Byron through his pants and squeezed. Byron thrust up against his hand and groped the gorgeous body above him. Byron pulled the towel away from Kit’s hips. Kit moaned as Byron traced his finger down the cleft of his cheeks. Byron asked, “Have you got any objections to me fucking you?”

Kit licked into his mouth slowly. “No, just as long as I get to fuck you later.”

Byron turned them over and smiled, “Agreed.” 

Then he dipped his head and kissed his way across Kit’s broad chest and sucked a nipple, Kit’s hand went to his head and held him against him. Then he skimmed his hand over Kit’s abdomen, down to his cock, to his balls, Kit moaned and spread his legs. Byron found his entrance and played with it. He gazed down at Kit and asked, “Do we have some of that sunscreen left?”

Kit laughed and told him, “I think there’s some in the shower room.”

Byron told him, “Stay there, and do not move.”

Kit laughed again, and Byron reluctantly got off the bed and went to find it. He returned shortly and climbed back on the bed. Kit reached up, and pulled him back down to him and kissed him. 

He prepared him quickly and then settled between his widely spread thighs.

Byron felt hypnotised. As he slid into him, Kit’s whole body quivered. Kit cried out, “Oh, fuck.” and his eyes rolled back. He breathed deeply, as Byron thrust in some more.

Byron groaned, “Oh, you are so fucking tight. Oh shit so good.” 

He leaned over and kissed him. Kit was panting against his lips, “Oh, god you feel huge, ah.”

Byron chuckled against his cheek, “That’s because you’re so tight.” 

Byron waited and then pushed in further, and Kit cried out again, “Please go slowly.”

He smiled down at Kit, “You sound like you’ve never had a cock inside you before.”

Kit blinked and then swallowed, “I don’t know.”

Byron brow furrowed, “But… earlier with Oscar, it seemed so natural?”

Kit shook his head against the pillow, “My instinct was to be the top.”

“So why did you agree to this? To me…?”

“I don’t know; I just wanted to do it, with you.”

He looked down at him in awe and then kissed him, then he made a quick final deep thrust to the hilt and then he waited until Kit was used to it. 

Then he found a rhythm that had Kit grasping his ass wanting more. Byron found his possessive side emerging. He asked, “You feel that. Do you feel my cock up your ass?”

Kit looked at him with flushed cheeks, he nodded, “Yeah, oh I feel it, it feels so fucking good.”

Byron thrust harder, “That’s because it belongs there. Do you know that, your ass belongs to me now?”

Kit moaned loudly, “Yes.”

“No one else gets to have it.”

Kit was nodding lost in his passion, but then he frowned, “Oscar…?” 

Byron pulled out then thrust back inside, long and deep and Kit arched off the bed, but when he settled again, he grabbed Byron and turned them over. He stared down at him; he told him “You were doing so well. But you can’t control me, no matter how good you are in bed. I can fuck who ever I want.” he began to lift himself off him.

Byron grasped his hips, he stared up at him, and then he swallowed and compromised, “I’ll share you. You can fuck him all you want but your ass is mine.”

Kit narrowed his eyes at him. Byron didn’t know why it meant so much to him. He said, “Please.”

Kit’s face blossomed into a bright smile, and he leaned over and kissed him. Byron returned the kiss with relief and passion.

~*~

Eventually, Oscar came looking for them, when he opened the cabin door and found them, they were sharing a slow kiss as they enjoyed the afterglow. Byron looked up, and met Oscar’s gaze and smirked at him.

He could tell by Oscar’s body language that he wasn’t sure what his reaction was supposed to be, in the situation they were in, there were no deep feelings to hurt, only sexual jealousy. Kit smiled at Oscar, “Hi.” 

Then Kit glanced between them and asked, “It’s late, is everyone ready for bed?”

Byron and Oscar caught each other’s eye; Byron asked Kit, “Do you want us to sleep in the same bed?”

Kit stretched out and smiled, “It’s a big bed.”

Oscar approached the bed, “Is it to sleep or something else?”

Kit grinned coyly, “Sleep now, something else, maybe later.”

Oscar licked his lips and grinned, “Sounds good to me.”

As Oscar undressed to join them, Byron wondered how great the fallout was going to be when they got their memories back.

~S~

He woke up in the early hours. He lifted himself up on his elbows; he studied the two men that he was sharing the bed with. Both were gorgeous in their own individual ways. To his left was the blond, tanned, muscular, with chocolate brown eyes, the stereotypical west-coast guy, his pearly white smile, and his carefree manner were very appealing. Not to mention he had an incredible ass. 

To his right was almost like seeing the other’s dark reflection. He was dark haired, almost as dark as his own, fairer complexion, blue eyes that seemed to see into his soul, striking but in a more severe way. Being with the blond was easy and fun, however, once the dark one had let himself go he had been just as wild, just as passionate as he had speculated about earlier.

Lucky for him, he didn’t have to choose between them. Kit gathered his knees under him, and sat back on his haunches. He pulled the sheet away and admired their bodies. He didn’t fully understand why he had thrown himself into just having a good time, why he wasn’t worried about their situation, but the idea of just letting everything go appealed to him. 

He caressed both their bodies with his hands. They sighed and hummed respectively at his touch. He reached out to their cocks and taking one in each hand, he began to stroke them in time with each other. 

Byron opened his eyes first. He whispered silkily, “You’re a cocktease.”

Kit grinned, “Am I?”

Oscar answered while his eyes were still closed, “He’s only a cocktease if he doesn’t follow through.”

Kit rubbed his thumbs over both tips, and his boys groaned at the same time. Kit leaned over towards Oscar, and flicked his tongue over the head of Oscar’s cock. Oscar moaned as Kit sucked the head into his mouth. Oscar uttered, “Great cocksucker.”

Kit hummed around it and then pulled off, and then he leaned over to Byron and did the same to his cock. Byron’s fingers ran through Kit’s hair tenderly. Kit glanced up at him, then he pulled off and smiled at him, he complimented them, “My boys have got the most beautiful pair of cocks.” 

Then he returned to Oscar’s cock, fisted it while he sucked the head. He alternated back and forth until neither could lay there and take anymore. Kit saw them glance at each other, and then they both went into action, taking him down to the mattress. Kit laughed as they began a detailed exploration of his body with their lips and tongues.

He was in bliss. He shared languid kisses with Byron, while Oscar was kissing a trail down his body. He moaned into Byron’s mouth as Oscar reached his cock and sucked on the head. After a few moments, Oscar went lower to his balls, and Kit spread his thighs. Oscar hummed around one and then went even lower, between his cheeks. 

Oh, it felt good.

He remembered his deal with Byron, but it felt so good, too good to stop him. He pulled his legs up further so Oscar could get to him easier. At the movement, Byron began to pull out of the kiss to see what was going on, and so Kit grasped his head and intensified the kiss to distract him. 

When Kit began to pant into his mouth Byron must have realised something was going on, and he pulled away and looked. Instead of being angry, Byron chuckled, “Are you having fun down there, Oscar? I hope you are, because your tongue is the only part of your body going near his ass.”

Oscar pulled away. He smirked, “I wouldn’t count on it.”

Byron grinned wickedly, and then he looked down at Kit. “Tell him.”

Kit felt slightly embarrassed. He gave Oscar a lopsided smile. “I promised him, but I still want you, I still want to fuck you.”

Oscar shook his head and laughed, “First you claim the yacht, and now his ass; you’re just a greedy little boy, aren’t you?”

“You’re just lucky I agreed to share him at all.” Byron stated arrogantly.

Kit gave them a cheeky smile, “No, I think you two are lucky, that I want both of you.”

Oscar laughed again, “I was wrong, you’re the greedy one.”

~*~

Oscar spread his legs and Kit settled between, then he positioned himself and slid into Oscar’s tight ass. Oscar caressed his body, down to his ass. He grasped his ass-cheeks and spread him. Kit groaned as Byron rubbed his cock against his ass. Oscar pulled him down to him, and asked, “Do you like that? This is what you wanted isn’t it, both of us at the same time?”

Kit thrust forward into Oscar, and muttered, “Hmm, oh yeah, I want it.”

Oscar kissed him, as Byron spanked his ass with his cock repeatedly. He moaned into Oscar’s mouth as Byron finally thrust into him. Then Byron held on to his shoulder and took him hard, hard enough so each thrust rocked through Kit and into Oscar. 

The cabin echoed with grunts, and groans and the sound of skin on skin, they were pouring with sweat, but they carried on going, he turned his head for a kiss from brunet and then dipped down and kissed the blond. He’d never felt this turned on or this dirty in his entire life, and he loved it.

He groaned as he thrust deeply. Jesus, Oliver had a great ass.

He stilled as he realised his own thoughts. He looked down at the flushed handsome face, at the familiar brown eyes, except they were looking up at him with desire, and the body beneath him bucked up, asking him to continue. 

He cried out as another deep thrust from behind, rocked through him. Oh, fuck Bruce. Oh shit, oh shit.

Clark laid his head against Oliver’s shoulder. Oh, god, what were they doing? 

Actually, he knew exactly what they were doing…. He remembered the whole day…. Shit, he couldn’t think with Bruce’s cock driving into his ass. 

He remembered their agreement, about making sure they were thoroughly ashamed of their actions. Stopping now, wouldn’t change what they had already done. He keened as the emotional impact hit. Before it had just been about sexual attraction, but now it was Bruce, and Oliver and all their history. Oh, god.

Oliver caressed his back, then his hair, “Kit, are you okay?”

Bruce stilled, “Is he okay, what’s wrong?”

“Kit?” Oliver asked again.

He forced himself to raise his head. He caressed Oliver’s face gently, “I’m okay.” He reached back and ran his hand over Bruce’s thigh. He took a breath and then told him, “Keep going.” 

Bruce caressed his back, “Are you sure you’re alright, Kit?”

Clark wanted to cry in anguish, but he told him, “Yes, fuck me… fuck me please.”

Bruce began a slower rhythm, and Clark pushed back for it, then he thrust forward into Oliver again and again. Oliver pulled him in for another kiss and Clark let him. As the kiss ended, Bruce pulled him back for his own kiss, and Clark again responded. 

Bruce told him, “You are so fucking hot.”

Then Oliver concurred, “So fucking sexy, and you’re all ours.” 

Bruce corrected, “You mean we are his.”

Clark couldn’t take anymore, and he cried out, “I’m coming. Fuck, I’m coming.”

They both responded, Oliver fisted his own cock and squeezed his ass around Clark’s cock, and Bruce speeded up his thrusts into his ass, so they all came with minutes of each other. They collapsed into a panting, sweaty, and spent heap, both Bruce, and Oliver giving him careless but tender kisses while they recovered.

~*~ 

Clark lay awake in the middle of his two tired out companions. He stared at the ceiling, he couldn’t sleep, and his mind wouldn’t rest. He had fucked and been fucked by two of the most important men in his life. 

He glanced over at Oliver, the blond was one of his oldest friends, they had been through a lot together over the years, and they’d made it through, Oliver had made a promise a long time ago to always stand with him, and Clark was proud to say he’d kept his promise.

He turned his head and gazed at Bruce. He hadn’t known Bruce anywhere nearly as long as he’d known Oliver. However, working as his teammate, they had developed an unwavering respect and trust. Bruce wasn’t easy to get to know, he wouldn’t allow it. But Clark knew Bruce counted him as a good friend maybe even his best friend, and Clark felt the same way.

But now in the aftermath of what they’d done, Clark was worried. What was their reaction going to be when they got their memories back too?

 

To be continued


	3. Bare Boating 3/4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone get their memory back.

TITLE: Bare Boating 3/4  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce/Oliver   
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Anyone  
WORDCOUNT: 3174  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Three men on a boat with amnesia, and now the repercussions

~S~

Clark thought back to a few days ago.

After much squabbling between Bruce, and Oliver, it had been decided that they would hire a chartered yacht. 

Oliver had wanted to use his own for the mission, Bruce had pointed out that they were trying to be inconspicuous. Oliver believed they were going to be noticed anyway so they might as well do it in style on his yacht; Bruce had crassly reminded Oliver about his lack of success with yachts. 

Oliver had grasped Clark’s shoulder and smugly asked, ‘How can we get into trouble on a boat with Superman with us?’ 

Bruce had still demanded that they hire a yacht.

They had bought in some basic supplies, and then they had set off to discover if the rumours of Lex Luthor buying an island, and setting up some sort of lab, were true or not. It all sounded a tad Bond villain to Clark. However, finding out it was the same island that Lex had been stranded on over a decade earlier made Clark determined to find out the truth. 

His teammates had insisted they come along. They both knew about Lex’s fascination with Kryptonite, and Clark knew they were just trying to look out for him. Bruce had set himself up as helmsman, not trusting Oliver to do it. And they had put away their uniforms and dressed casually to allay any suspicions.

As they came in sight of the island, Bruce and Oliver had set up their scanning equipment. Both Oliver and Bruce had been greatly troubled when none of their orbiting satellites could get past the island’s defences, chartering the yacht so they could get closer to the island, was the next option. They knew that Lex would have a security system looking out for the energy patterns of anything as high powered as the vehicles that both Batman and Green Arrow used to fight crime. So they believed an ordinary powered yacht wouldn’t draw too much attention.

The trip had been going well, he and Oliver had enjoyed the sunshine, and Bruce had been happy fiddling with the equipment inside. 

That was until a call of distress had filtered through, he heard the fire fighter’s report in that they couldn’t get the ladders up to floor where the children were. Clark couldn’t ignore the cries of children trapped in a fire, so he had changed into his uniform and gone to help.

He had returned later on, as night was falling, in great spirits. He had gotten there in time, and all the children had survived. 

As the yacht and the island came in to view, Clark couldn’t resist a flyby of the island, knowing that if he could get a good look his visual abilities could save them all a lot of time and trouble. Then maybe they could have a relaxing return journey. He might even be able to get Bruce to come out into the sun for a while.

As soon as the Kryptonite laser blasted him, he knew Bruce was going to chew his ear off for being so foolish, and that Oliver would tell him off for trying to do everything himself. 

He managed to turn away at the last moment as another blast sliced through his uniform. He saw out the corner of his eye, another strike from a different direction shoot out at him… damn, blue Kryptonite. It seemed Lex was expanding his Kryptonite research into the other varieties of the meteorites, and not just the green. Clark knew he had to get out of there. As he flew away, a final blast hit him on the back. He had shivered at the impact but he hadn’t felt any lasting effects. 

He remembers getting back to the yacht, and as soon as he landed, Oliver started having a go at him. Clark remembers sighing and asking Oliver to forget everything for now, that they would talk about it later when Clark felt like it, and that Oliver should just go to sleep. Then he had walked away. 

Bruce had called out to him on his way past the wheelhouse. As soon as the word ‘fool’ came out of his mouth, Clark had told him to forget about the mission for once in his life, and that at the moment they should all get some sleep. 

He had turned away and made his way to his cabin. He pulled at his uniform that was in ruins, leaving the torn fragments as he went. When he got to the bedroom, he remembers thinking that he should follow his own advice.

Then he had fallen asleep.

~*~

He was awakened by two strangers, except now with his memories restored he knew those strangers were Bruce, and Oliver. God, he must’ve been a sight to see, only wearing his boots and his red shorts after tearing the rest away. They had concluded that he was a stripper, and he’d believed them and happily gone along with it.

He couldn’t really fault their conclusions. After all, what were two guys on a boat with amnesia with a man who seemed to have a closet full of strange costumes with him supposed to think? 

He’d seen the barely disguised attraction in their eyes from the very beginning, and that was confusing. As far as Clark was concerned, his friends were heterosexual, hell their whole personas were about being womanisers. 

Yet they’d had no compunction about showing their attraction to him, or acting on that attraction. Clark wondered if that attraction was always there within his friends. Were Bruce and Oliver really attracted to him? Was it only their lives, and their individual histories with him that had kept it hidden?

For Clark’s own part, he’d always been attracted to both sexes. He wasn’t sure if that was because he was a different species to the people that he had interacted with for most of his life. He didn’t know that had he lived on Krypton with his own species, would he have been heterosexual. Or if he’d been human, would he still be bisexual? Clark didn’t know. All he did know was he’d always been attracted to the person not their gender. 

The question was how did he feel about his friends? They were gorgeous he knew that. He had acted upon that physical attraction when he’d had no memory. But he had also chosen to carry on, asked them to carry on when his memories had returned, and he’d come hard when they claimed him as theirs. The problem was that he had no idea what they were going to say when their memories returned.

~*~

He waited on deck for them to wake up. He felt that he couldn’t still be in bed with them, when they did wake up. 

He heard them rouse, heard them wonder where Kit was. Then they came looking for him.

He heard them come up behind him. He turned around. Bruce gave him a wonderfully uncharacteristic bright smile. “There he is.”

Oliver approached him reaching out, “Where’s our morning kiss.”

Clark held his hand out to stop him. He told them, “Wait, I need to say something.” 

They both frowned at his serious tone. He continued, “I have my memory back. I think I was blasted with jewel Kryptonite, it gives me the power of persuasion, it’s my fault you lost your memories. I suggested you forget and you did.”

Bruce laughed, “Do you know what the hell he’s talking about Oscar?”

Oliver shrugged.

Clark told them, “I want you to remember.”

He saw enlightenment dawn in both their eyes. Oliver’s brow furrowed, “Clark?”

He nodded. 

He saw a mixture of embarrassment, and confusion on their faces as they remembered everything. Bruce stared at him and when he met that gaze, Bruce looked away, he said, “The mission has been ruined, we might as well head home. I have to go and correct the course heading.” 

Then he turned away and went to the wheelhouse.

Clark swallowed the lump in his throat.

Oliver gave him a sad smile, “We managed it, didn’t we?” Clark tilted his head in question and Oliver supplied, “We made sure we did everything that we could, so we would regret it when we got our memories back.” 

Then Oliver sighed and went down below to get dressed properly, leaving Clark alone. 

He turned and looked out to sea. Yeah, they had done it. They had made sure they were thoroughly ashamed.

~*~

They had returned to their normal lives. They chatted, and they went on missions for the Justice League together. To a casual observer nothing was wrong, but he could feel it, just under the surface, the tension. The tension of knowing someone intimately but pretending you didn’t. Pretending you didn’t know what the other person looked and sounded like when they came hard because of you. 

He noticed how Bruce hadn’t been able to look him straight in the eye since his memory had returned. Oliver had made more of an effort. He still laughed and joked with him, but Clark had also noticed how he had stopped calling him by his nickname ‘Boyscout’. He supposed when you had sucked two guy’s cocks at the same time, and then been the filling of an erotic sandwich, your reputation for being a good boy was tarnished some.

Hmm, he laid his head back against the chair he was sitting in, and closed his eyes, and he savoured the memories. He remembers the way they had looked at him, the way they kissed him, the way it felt fucking Oliver, and how good it had felt having Bruce inside him. The way they had claimed him, shit it had been incredible. Just because they would rather forget, Clark had come to realise he didn’t. 

The Watchtower doors opened and he heard footsteps come to a halt. Clark lazily opened his eyes. He caught Batman and Green Arrow staring at him. He smiled slowly at them, “Hey, guys.”

Batman dodged his gaze again and Green Arrow chuckled lightly, “You getting enough sleep at night, Clark?”

He shrugged, “I think maybe I’m getting too much sleep. I need to find some nighttime activities to expend some energy. Have either of you got any suggestions?”

Oliver forced another chuckle, “I’d enjoy the sleep if I were you. You do enough as it is.”

He smiled and let him laugh away the moment. 

However, he observed them both for the rest of the day. He saw them struggle while they interacted with him. Trying to reconcile him, the man that they knew, against how he had been on the yacht. Maybe he should put it from his mind. Perhaps if they ignored it long enough they could put the events on the yacht out of their minds. Except, Clark didn’t want to forget, he had tasted the forbidden and now he wanted more. 

He knew what kind of men his friends were. He knew the mission came first with Bruce, and he knew Oliver, though he tried to hide it, valued Clark’s friendship above most other things in his life, that those things were more important than sex. He knew that both of them would deny their feelings and desires rather than give in to them and maybe lose what they already had. 

Clark didn’t want to lose their friendship either. He wasn’t looking at this through rose tinted glasses. He wasn’t asking for forever, hell he wasn’t even asking for commitment. However, what they had done on the boat, the desires that had been revealed couldn’t be ignored forever, and trying to ignore them could ruin their friendship faster than giving in to them. So Clark was determined that they wouldn’t be able forget.

He began to find ways to tease them. When Batman and Green Arrow were standing closely together for any reason, he would find a way to squeeze between them always making sure their bodies touched. During meetings, he’d play with phallic looking objects. He even started a conversation with his other teammates within earshot of them, about his red boots, about how much he liked them. His favourite had been when he happened to walk past them and he ‘accidently’ dropped a pen, he crouched down to pick it up, he’s stayed down there longer than necessary and Batman and Arrow and glanced down at him, he had smiled up at them from his position, which was right in front of their crotches. “Hello boys.” He had said. They had both seemed to be mesmerised by him until he stood back up and moved away from them.

~*~

It came to a head one night when they found him on a rooftop in Metropolis. Batman began, “We’ve come to talk to you about our misadventure on the yacht, and how it’s affected us.”

Superman looked at his teammates. They seemed so serious, not exactly the affect he had been trying to induce. He wondered aloud, “What do you mean?”

Green Arrow continued, “Listen Clark, what happened on the boat, the things that were said, and the things that we did, we wasn’t ourselves.”

Superman’s jaw flexed, ‘wasn’t our selves’? How many times had he heard that line over the years, when things had happened beyond his or his friend’s control? He’d actually said those words many times himself, while trying to give a friend or loved one an excuse for…usually it was trying to kill him. But this time, he wasn’t going to let it be an excuse. He stated, “I wouldn’t say that, we might not have had our memories but I think we were still ourselves.”

Arrow answered him, “That doesn’t matter Clark, what matters is your behaviour since we got back. You’re not acting like yourself. We’re worried about you.”

Superman turned from one to the other in bafflement. He turned and paced away and then turned back. “For a couple of guys who save the world on a regular basis, you‘re slow on the uptake.” They gazed at him in confusion, “Or maybe it’s me, I know I haven’t had much practise but…”

Batman asked, “Are you saying you know how you have been acting, and that you have been doing it on purpose? But why…?”

He couldn’t believe they didn’t understand. He approached them. He circled them. He ran his hand over Arrow’s leather clad ass, and Batman’s arm down to his gauntlets, “Do you remember when we thought all these were my stripper outfits, when you found me just in my shorts and boots?” They both pulled away slightly but Clark could see they were remembering. “The way you both looked at me, like you wanted to devour me?”

“Geez, Clark, this is what we’re talking about.” Oliver exclaimed.

He rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Batman asked, “What exactly is it that you want?”

Superman complained, “Do you know what, I wish Byron and Oscar were here, because they would know what I want, and they would give it to me, too.”

Both Batman and Green Arrow bristled at the mention of their aliases, Arrow sighed, “Obviously, what happened has affected you more than we realised, but what we did without our memories isn’t our fault. You have to let it go.”

He turned away. “I can’t do that. I can’t forget. You told me that you were mine.” 

“I know, but you just have to pretend it happened to someone else, like it was a dream and then we woke up.”

“Maybe you can, but it’s not so simple for me.” He snapped.

Batman who had been quiet spoke up, “Oh, my god, you didn’t get your memory back that morning like we thought did you?”

He turned and looked Batman in the eye. He shook his head, “No.” he confirmed.

Arrow’s gaze flickered between them, “Oh shit, Clark, when…?”

He looked down at the rooftop and told them quietly, “During…”

Arrow whispered, “Shit…”

He heard Batman take a deep breath, “When we thought something was wrong…?”

He nodded again.

There was a tense silence, and then Batman said, “You told us to carry on, you participated…”

He looked up and admitted, “It was too late to stop, and I realised I wanted it anyway.” He moved towards them, he licked his lips, “I still want it.” he stood between them, he reached behind him and pulled Batman flush against his back and he pulled Arrow in and whispered, “The passion that you two showed me, it didn’t come from nowhere and it can’t just disappear, it must be still there. Show me.” 

They stayed together like that for endless moments, he felt Batman’s hot breath against his neck, and Arrow’s breath against his lips. 

Then Batman stepped back and away, he told them, “It’s not appropriate for us to be doing this Superman. Not only have a great deal of revelations been revealed, that need to be dealt with, but it is also unprofessional.”

When he turned to look at Batman stunned at his reaction. Green Arrow took the opportunity to move away also, “He’s right Clark. Too much has happened to rush into things and make stupid mistakes.”

He turned to Batman, “What has to be dealt with, huh? It’s perfectly simple. You are my two closest friends. I’m not trying to distract you from your mission. I just think we deserve some fun now and again.” 

Batman studied him, “You want it to be like it was on boat?”

Superman nodded, “Yeah, why not, it was good wasn’t it?”

Batman grimaced, “Things were simpler on the boat, and we can’t go back. We’re not the same men. He’s not Oscar, I’m not Byron, and you’re certainly not Kit.”

Clark suddenly felt ill. His gaze flickered between them. He had come to believe that the desire for him in their eyes on their jaunt was a real part of them. That having amnesia had allowed hidden desires to be revealed, desires only hidden because of their deep respect for their friendship with him. But now he realised that it was Kit they had wanted, they didn’t want Clark. 

Batman told him, “I think you should start acting with some restraint now Superman, and while we’re on duty at the Watchtower also.” 

Then Batman rappelled from the building and was gone.

Superman turned to Green Arrow, “Is that what you think too, that I’m not Kit?”

Green Arrow shrugged, “But you’re not, are you?”

Superman shook his head slowly, “No, I’m just Clark.”

Arrow gave him a sad smile, “I better be going too, Clark, I’ve still got to finish my patrol. We’ll talk again soon, I’ll see you.” 

Then he was gone also.

He laughed wretchedly, so much for the big seduction.

 

To be continued


	4. Bare Boating 4/4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will there be an happy ending?

TITLE: Bare Boating 4/4  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce/Oliver   
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (whiterose)  
RATING: Anyone  
WORD COUNT: 2780  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Three men had amnesia on a boat, now they’re still dealing with consequences.

~S~

He did as he was asked. He gave up trying to get any reactions from them. He did his best to get past it, and he thought he was doing a good job too, although, he did sometimes catch Bruce, and Oliver watching him surreptitiously. He’d just smile and continue with whatever he was doing. 

It was a peculiar experience, he’d never blatantly thrown himself at anyone before, well not without being on red Kryptonite, and then Kal had never been refused had he? But he had. God, he’d been better at seduction as an amnesiac stripper. He’d seduced two men within a day, and now he couldn’t entice anyone. 

He guessed that playing the nerd had really had an effect on him. He glanced around the Daily Planet bullpen. All these people, all his workmates took him at face value, they underestimated him, and his chance of getting himself laid was non-existent with any of these people. That was the point, hiding in plain sight. But Bruce and Oliver were supposed to be different; they were supposed to really know him. However, he supposed they had been blinded by his image as Superman as much as the public. They couldn’t see him as just a man with needs, who wanted to have fun, too clean cut to want both of them without the L word being involved.

He smiled. Actually, the L word was involved, he did love them, he just didn’t expect a serious relationship, well, you couldn’t exactly do that with a threesome could you? God, why was he even thinking about this again, ‘Just get over it Clark.’ He told himself.

~G~

He hesitated at the double doors of the Watchtower. Geez, he couldn’t believe that opening a set of doors he’s been through a couple of thousand times before had started making him more nervous than facing down super-villains. Shit, he was Green Arrow for god’s sake, why was he so worried facing his teammate? Worse still, why was Oliver worried about seeing his closest friend, Clark? 

He steeled himself and then pushed the doors open and entered, dreading seeing a flash of red and blue. He sighed in relief when there was none. He hated trying to avoid Superman, hated having to put on an act, pretending everything was fine. Since the… since the mission that went wrong, they had all made an unspoken pact to forget what had happened. 

There were many things that those who chose to do this, had to forget or put aside to carry on doing this crazy job. What happened on that boat was one of them. 

That was until he and Batman had finally acknowledged that there was something not quite right about Clark since their return, the way he seemed to be playing with them, teasing them about what had happened on the boat. It wasn’t very Clark-like that was for sure. He had been worried, so was Bruce, not that you could tell very much.

So they had confronted Superman on a rooftop in Metropolis. Oh, man. Finding out that not only was Clark fine, and that he was teasing them on purpose was weird enough but then finding out that he had recovered his memories whilst they were having sex. Shit. It was difficult enough dealing with the memories as just that, memories of being someone else, but to have come to his senses during. Oh god. 

Then he had revealed that he still wanted them. Damn. Batman had told Clark it wasn’t right, that it couldn’t be as it had been on the boat, and for once in his life Oliver agreed with him. 

How could it be the same? With their lives, with their long-standing friendship, and then there was Byron, who might have been a little intense but he was a pussycat compared to Bruce. Shit. 

And then there was the main reason why… he’d asked him, and Oliver had answered him truthfully… No, he wasn’t Kit. He wasn’t an utterly carefree, playful, beautiful Adonis who just wanted sex, who Oscar had just wanted to fuck. 

No, he was Clark. Clark, who was so many things to him, old friend, brother, teammate, leader…, and secret crush. But wasn’t that just business as usual for Clark, didn’t he just draw people in. Hell even his archenemy secretly liked him.

However, admiring your friend was different from showing your attraction…Fuck …Acting on that attraction. He remembers Kit asking him in a very concerned, very Clark-like manner if he wanted to stop before they did something they would regret. At least twice, he’d asked, and he hadn’t been bothered, he just wanted to see what it was like to kiss those lips, and have that cock up his ass. God, it had been fantastic, who knew the Boyscout could fuck like that? Actually, it wasn’t that surprising; he was super at everything else, wasn’t he? 

He was brought out of his revelry by a noise and he turned towards the doors as they opened, and then Clark walked in. It seemed ages since he’d seen him as Clark, in regular clothes and not Superman. Clark came to a halt when he saw him. Then Clark gave a tight smile and then glanced away, and said, “I’ll get out of your way in a minute, I didn’t realise you were on duty tonight.”

Oliver could feel the tension in his throat as he swallowed, “Are you avoiding me, Clark?”

Clark glanced at him and then away again, “I thought it would be easier, you know.”

Yeah, well that’s what he’d thought too, but now hearing it aloud it just felt so wrong. He told him, “Not being around you, could never make things easier for me, Clark.”

Clark nodded, and grimaced slightly, “Easier for me.”

“Clark…?”

Clark spoke softly, “Listen, I never expected much. I just remember liking what we did on the boat. I thought that maybe you and Bruce did too. I thought you might like to keep it going. Realising you didn’t and that you never really wanted me; I made a fool of myself on that rooftop…”

“You didn’t make a fool of yourself, Clark.”

Clark glanced shyly at him. “Yeah, right.”

“You didn’t.”

Clark chuckled humourlessly, “When you offer to share yourself with two guys and neither one takes the offer, then you’ve made a fool of yourself…”

“You didn’t make a fool of yourself.” he repeated.

“…when they would rather be with an amnesiac stripper, than me…”

Oliver was moving before he realised he’d made a decision. He cupped Clark’s head, and his lips cut Clark off mid tirade. He swept his tongue inside, and Clark groaned in the back of his throat, then his hands came up and cupped Oliver’s head in return. 

Hmm, it was even better than he remembered. 

They pulled away slowly. They both licked their lips while gazing at each other. There was the beginning of a slow smile forming on Clark’s lips. “You said, I wasn’t Kit.”

Oliver nodded in agreement, “You’re not. You’re so much more, you’re Clark.”

He leaned in and their lips met again. 

Clark pulled away slightly and said, “I thought you agreed with Bruce, I thought you didn’t want me.”

He shrugged, “I did in a way, being with you could never be as simple as it was on that boat, we have a lot of history, Clark. But I don’t think many people could turn you down…”

Clark’s brow creased, “Bruce can.”

Oliver remembered their rivalry on the boat, how Byron had gone so far as to punch him, because of his jealousy over Kit. He told Clark, “Honestly, Clark I don’t know what Bruce is thinking or how he really feels. He’s a master at hiding it.”

Clark frowned, “Yeah, I know he is.”

“You want him though. You still want him to be a part of this.”

Clark nodded silently.

Oliver reached out and caressed Clark’s face, “It’s his loss.” Then he kissed him again more passionately. Clark responded just as passionately. Oliver ran his hands down Clark’s back to his ass. “Hmm, maybe now, I can finally have this.”

Clark tensed in his arms, and sighed, “I’m sure it would be great Oliver, but we can’t do that.”

With slight chagrin, he asked, “You’re going to keep your promise to him, even if he never wants it again?”

“I’m sorry, Oliver.”

Despite his annoyance, he knew he would be a fool to turn down the offer, just because he was denied one thing, he asked, “I would still get what I was promised, though. Wouldn’t I?”

Clark smiled, “Yes, you would.”

Oliver grinned, “To you and me having some fun, huh, Boyscout?”

Clark’s eyes widened and then Oliver was pulled into an embrace. They were kissing furiously, when their attentions were drawn away from each other and to the doorway.

Batman stood staring at them in dismay. Clark uttered his name, “Bruce.”

He didn’t say a word just turned and walked away. Oliver watched, as Clark’s eyes never left the spot where Batman had been. In a reversal of the earlier scenario on the boat, Oliver told him, “You should go after him.”

Clark turned to him in surprise, “You think…?”

Oliver encouraged him, “If you want him to be part of this, go after him.”

Clark smiled brightly and rushed off. Oliver smiled to himself, if anyone could make Batman see sense, it was Superman.

~B~

Goddamn son of a bitch.

They’d agreed, maybe not verbally but they’d agreed to forget… try to forget, what they’d done. 

First, he’d had to endure Clark’s teasing reminders, and now he had to witness Oliver completely failing to rebuff Clark’s advances. Just like on the damn yacht. He remembered how pissed off he’d been the first time he had come across them cavorting. Damn it, this was worse.

“Bruce.”

Oh shit, why did he have to follow him out? He tried to walk away, Clark called after him, “Bruce, please wait.”

He stopped in his tracks, took a calming breath, and then turned, “Yes, is there something you wanted?”

Clark approached him. He held his gaze, “You know what I want, don’t you?”

He ground his teeth together, “Don’t use my own words against me, Clark.”

Clark arched an eyebrow, “So you do remember what you said, what we did, you haven’t managed to forget yet.”

As if he could ever actually forget, however, he told him, “Forgetting would be for the best for everyone concerned.”

Clark moved closer. “I don’t want to forget Bruce. I don’t want to forget what it was like to be with you. I want it to continue, and Oliver wants it too.”

He sneered, “I just bet he does.”

“Yes, he does. The question is why you don’t?”

He couldn’t help it, he snapped, “Because it can’t work.”

“You said that before, why can’t it work? Because you think I’m not really Kit, because I don’t turn you on like this?” he said spreading his arms.

He shook his head and admitted quietly, “No.”

Clark’s eyes lit up, “I knew it. I knew you couldn’t have been so passionate so wild when you fucked me, without something more being there.”

He groaned inwardly at the reminder. “It still isn’t a good idea.”

Clark wheedled, “Byron didn’t think it was a good idea either, but he couldn’t resist in the end, although you never fulfilled your part of our agreement.”

He wasn’t sure what Clark meant. He stated, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Clark approached him, got in close and whispered to him, “You promised I could fuck you, just before you took my virginity.”

His breath quickened. Fuck. So it was true, Kit hadn’t known for sure, and Byron had wondered, but now it was confirmed. He really had been the first to have him that way.

Clark leaned in slowly, watching him until Clark’s soft lips brushed against his, his own eyes closed in pleasure. He heard himself make a small sound as Clark sucked gently on his lips. He opened his mouth, and their tongues met. They both hummed at the same time and then their tongues met again. Hmm, it was so good.

Clark pulled back and looked into his eyes. “I want you to take what’s yours again.”

He instantly knew what he meant. His eyes focused on Clark’s ass, “You and Oliver haven’t…?”

“No, and we’re not going to, I promised you.”

His hand moved of its own volition, curving around Clark’s ass. When he saw the leather of his glove, he pulled his hand back. What was he thinking? Clark must’ve noticed the tension, he asked; “What’s the matter?”

Batman straightened his stance. “I told you before, this isn’t appropriate Superman.”

Clark’s jaw tensed. “Right now, I’m not Superman.”

Batman looked at his casual clothes, “Maybe but I’m Batman and we are here at the Watchtower.”

Clark demanded, “You can’t do this, not after what we just did.”

“It’s not appropriate.” Then he turned and walked away.

~*~

He saw Clark as he made his way through the lobby, saw him wave goodbye to the receptionist and then make his way out of the revolving door, out onto the street. Clark noticed the limousine straightaway, so he opened the door from the inside. Clark approached it. He ducked his head and looked inside. He greeted him with a smooth tone, “Good afternoon, Mr Kent. Have you had a good day at work?” 

Clark eyes widened as he saw him sprawled across the seat.

“Would you care to join me?” 

Clark asked in wonderment, “Bruce... what are you doing here?”

Bruce Wayne smiled at him, “I don’t know if you are aware of my reputation, Mr Kent, I’m always up for some fun.”

Clark stared at him with wide eyes, “I thought it wasn’t appropriate?”

Bruce smirked, “It might not be appropriate for some uptight individuals Mr Kent, but I’m Bruce Wayne and I love the inappropriate, now are you getting in?”

Clark grinned, climbed in, shut the door, and exclaimed, “I can’t get over the fact that you’ve come here.” 

He purred at him playfully, “You can be very seductive Clark, so hard to resist.”

Clark laughed in delight and fell into Bruce’s embrace, and they kissed passionately. Bruce groaned against his lips, “I’ve missed this.” 

Clark echoed the groan and told him, “You didn’t have to, but you had to fight it, didn’t you.”

Bruce gazed into his gorgeous eyes, “You want the truth, Clark? I didn’t know if I could accept the same terms that Byron did.”

Clark frowned and then he must have realised what he meant, “Oliver…?”

Bruce nodded, “It was hard enough agreeing to share Kit. I wasn’t sure I could share you, Clark.”

Clark looked speechless. Bruce knew what he was thinking. This thing between them started with Oliver, hell with Byron’s restraint, if it wasn’t for Oscar initiating it, none of this would be happening. 

Clark told him, “I don’t know what to say, Bruce, it wouldn’t be fair on him. We already know that he is willing to share.”

Bruce was curious. He wanted to see Clark’s reaction. He needed to know for sure if their bond was as strong as he had believed before the boat, and during their time on it. He needed to know before he told him his decision. 

He didn’t respond verbally he just leaned in and kissed him, and he was gratified when Clark returned it eagerly. Bruce’s hands strayed to his ass and grasped it and Clark grinded himself against him, groaning, “You’re not playing fair.”

Bruce chuckled, “You said it belongs to me.”

Clark sighed against Bruce cheek, “That was part of the old agreement.”

“Huh-huh, well it seems you’ve been sticking to the old agreement regardless.”

Clark gazed at Bruce, “I have, but you said…”

“I said, I wasn’t sure, now I am. The agreement stands. You get to fuck him anytime you two want, but your ass is still only mine.”

Clark narrowed his gaze. “The other term was, you get my ass if I get yours.”

Bruce licked his lips, “Agreed.”

Bruce didn't know how long they could continue this arrangement. He knew it couldn't last forever, but for now, he was willing to play by Clark and Oliver's rules.

So he sealed the agreement with another kiss.

 

The end


	5. Dry Dock 1/4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the events in Bare Boating, the heroes fun filled pact is going strong, but for how long when feelings get in the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone I just want to explain a little. After finishing such a long work as the Anteros series, it took me a while to get out of the headspace of that version of Bruce and Clark. So I looked to my previous stories to see if I thought any of them needed a sequel or a continuation. I found one in this story 'Bare Boating' 
> 
> Originally I left the ending ambiguous even though I had the urge to and knew how it should end. At the time I wrote it I was dedicated to giving Clark/Oliver some love. 
> 
> I'll explain for Batman fans who don't know. During the years that Smallville the series was on TV, the writers were keen to bring Bruce on as a guest star, because obviously Clark and Bruce have always had a connection in other media; the comics and animations. Well the powers that be wouldn't let them have Bruce, because he already had his own franchise with the Nolan movies. However they did let them have Green Arrow, obviously as a stand in for Bruce, and over the course of five years, the last half of the series, Clark and Oliver went from guys that worked together sometimes and were friendly but sometimes didn't agree, to each other's closest male friend. Clark eventually meets Bruce in the follow up comics series. Anyway the point is, after seeing Clark and Oliver going through so much, and getting so close I believe they deserved some love. 
> 
> I've written Clark/Oliver stories, and I've written a couple threesomes, such as this one.
> 
> I realise a lot of Superbat fans don't want to see them cavorting with anyone else, but I've written this continuation to Bare Boating called Dry Dock, and hope you give it a try and enjoy the ending that I always imagined. ;D
> 
> I'm adding the chapters to Bare Boating because it's the end of that story.

TITLE: Bare Boating – Dry Dock 1  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce/Oliver  
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 3,114  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Following the events in Bare Boating, the heroes fun filled pact is going strong, but for how long when feelings get in the way. 

~B~

The monitor room was quiet except for the tapping of keys. Green Arrow had his hood down but his head rested back against the back of his chair, with his eyes shut. He mumbled, “Why are you up here, streets of Gotham quiet?”

Batman’s leather clad fingers stopped and then hovered over his keyboard; he took a jaded breath and then continued typing. He hated explaining himself however, he revealed to his barely interested teammate, “I’m adding a new search algorithm to the system.”

Green Arrow opened one eye, “Couldn’t you do that from your lair?”

The cowl covered hero huffed under his breath, “No.” without turning to look, he queried, “Doesn’t monitor duty involve having your eyes open?”

Snidely Green Arrow chuckled, “That’s what the bleeping is for.”

Batman shook his head to himself, and finished entering the codes. He mused that if he weren’t here right now bothering him, Green Arrow would certainly be asleep.

From his seated position Arrow grumbled, “Man, it’s boring up here.”

“Tomorrow night it’ll be someone else’s turn and you’ll be back on the streets of Star City. You’ll be happy again.” he replied gruffly.

Arrow opened his eyes slowly, before revealing, “Actually I won’t, have to go to Metropolis tomorrow, my CEO wants me to sign some papers and shake some hands, you know how it is.”

Batman nodded subtly in agreement, without taking his eyes from his screen. Lucius sometimes demanded that of him too. That kind of thing was something him and his teammate had in common. Arrow continued, “Thought I’d stay over and have some fun.” Then with a touch of mischief in his voice, he asked, “You want to do Metropolis with me?”

Surprised at the question, he turned slowly and met his teammate’s gaze. He saw the playful taunt in his eyes, and understood the innuendo immediately. That was another thing they had in common. He uttered laconically, “It’s been a while since we did that.”

The handsome blond tilted his head, “Is that a yes?”

~*~

The following evening at his Metropolis penthouse, a casually dressed Oliver Queen was unpacking the catered meal he’d had sent over. He was placing all the dishes on the dining table when the elevator arrived on the top floor. The doors opened, and the gate slid back and he glanced up to see his friend enter. He smiled easily, “Nice to see you Boyscout.”

The also casually dressed, Clark Kent rolled his eyes behind the lenses of his black framed glasses, and returned the smile.

“Hi.” Clark said wryly. His eyes found all the food on the table, and he joked, “Are you hungry tonight, Oliver?”

He was sure that Oliver didn’t know if that was a double entendre coming from the ‘Boy Scout’, but he took a swig of the contents of his bottle of beer and he leered playfully, “Well I’m a little peckish Clark.”

The mild mannered off-duty reporter licked his lips while colouring slightly. “So you thought you’d put in a call for a delivery?”

The blond nodded, his lips turned up smugly but he said honestly, “Sharing a meal with my friend is the main thing, anything more than that is a bonus, Clark.”

Clark uttered, “I know, I feel the same way.”

He removed his jacket, making himself at home, and revealing a plain T-shirt underneath, and then he approached the table. Rubbing his hands together, he asked, “So what did you have sent over tonight?”

There he saw the Italian style dishes, pasta with sauces, and speciality bread, and … he raised an eyebrow, “A little elaborate you usually just get pizza.”

Oliver took another sip of his beer, before his eyes left Clark and glanced towards the open balcony doors. 

“He thinks I’m too spoilt to appreciate a stuffed crust with extra pepperoni.” He explained.

Clark stilled, and then he turned to the sound of his voice, his eyes wide. He found Bruce Wayne standing leaning against the frame of the balcony doors, casually dressed too, black jeans, and dark grey button down shirt, and holding a drink in his hand. He wondered how someone with Clark’s powers didn’t already know he was there.

As Clark took in the sight of him, his chest heaved and then he glanced back at Oliver, who smiled at him, and then back to Bruce who took a sip of his drink going for an air of smooth nonchalance. Clark let out a hitching breath, and that turned into a small smile, and then an excited grin. Bruce watched as he got hold of his self and swallowed down the brightness of the smile. His eyes sparkled as he nodded, “It’s been a while since we did it like this.”

Bruce’s lips quirked at the edges as he revealed, “That’s what I said to him.”

Clark nodded, and tilted his head and asked furtively, “I thought you didn’t…?”

He replied understanding the half spoken query, “Yes, but Ollie specifically invited me.”

The blond was watching their not so private communication. He chuckled, “As you both said it’s been a while. Come on guys, let’s eat.”

~*~

They ate at the table, relaxing and enjoying the evening as just three friends. They talked about their jobs. Clark inquired about Ollie’s meetings today, Clark talked about his latest assignment, and Bruce revealed more about the hunt he’d been on that led to him installing the new algorithm in the mainframe at the Watchtower. That led them to talk about their other jobs, and how quiet it had been lately and then to their mutual friends and teammates.

They finished their plates, left the dishes there and then moved over to the lounge. Clark and Oliver sat together on the couch and Bruce seated himself in the easy chair, and continued their conversation

Ollie opened another beer and took a pull on it. He laughed as he continued chatting, “Actually I can’t even remember, too much to drink I guess.”

Clark looked on with his elbow resting on the back of the couch, saying with half-hearted disapproval, “That’s not very nice.”

Bruce glanced at Clark; he knew losing track of how many people you had slept with was never going to happen to Clark, he wasn’t that kind of man.

The blond motioned to Bruce, “Are you telling me it’s never happened to you?”

Bruce shook his head, and revealed, “No, I remember every single one.”

Ollie mocked, “Sorry I forgot, your good times are never about having a good time are they?”

“I don’t class losing my faculties as being fun.”

Ollie shrugged and admitted, “I was young and stupid.”

Bruce pursed his lips, and fired back, “I’ve never been stupid.”

Clark met his gaze and smirked at him, “I don’t know, I remember a time when…”

Bruce nodded, “And that’s why we’re here right now, isn’t it?”

Pretty oceanic eyes blinked slowly, and then a soft pink tongue sneaked out and swept full lips. Ollie noticed the same tantalising view and hummed softly in response to it. “I think Clark had a great idea, it’s a fantastic arrangement, don’t you think Bruce?” 

Bruce glanced between them and commented, “As we said before it’s been a while since we did it this way, I’m assuming you two still…” he didn’t know because he really didn’t want to know, ignorance was bliss.

Ollie pursed his lips, “Yeah sometimes and I’m guessing so do you, unless you’ve turned back into a self-sacrificing idiot again.”

Clark sighed. “Nobody’s an idiot, and don’t you two start.”

The handsome blond snorted in amusement, and then he reached out and blatantly cupped Clark’s crotch through the denim of his blue jeans. “I thought we could start right now.”

The stunning focus of their attention groaned and arched gently into his palm. His eyes locked on Bruce’s and he licked his full lips to wet them. To no one in particular, he groaned, “Already?”

He watched him closely, as he was being watched in return and said to the point, “We know why we’re here.”

Ollie rubbed his hand against him harder and Clark laughed gaspingly, a little nervy, “Feels so… naughty doing it like this again.”

To try to calm him, Ollie leaned in, and kissed his earlobe and whispered though Bruce could still hear him, “Pretend it’s just you and me Boyscout.”

Clark bit his own lip, intensely gorgeous eyes still holding his, and shook his head and admitted, “No, I could never do that.” 

Bruce was gratified at that confession, and the feeling he saw in his best friend’s eyes. Then he watched as Clark turned his head and met Oliver’s eyes, and he leaned in and kissed him. Ollie groaned quietly and kissed him back. Their mouths opened, and he saw Ollie’s hand massage Clark through his jeans. Clark groaned in response.

It was weird seeing them like this. He had always known from the moment they’d made their pact, a friends with benefits kind of pact that Clark was occasionally sleeping with Oliver Queen. He watched as Ollie’s hand left Clark’s crotch, and found his own eagerly, and unzipped, as his tongue still played with Clark’s. As his cock was revealed, Ollie pulled out of the kiss and then guided Clark down to it. Clark smiled and then went down happily. 

As Clark’s full lips engulfed Oliver’s cock, Oliver slouched back against the back of the couch and groaned. Through pleasure filled eyes, he met Bruce’s gaze. He smiled lazily at him. There was no smugness or antagonism in his gaze, not like the first time he saw them in a sexually compromising situation. Although none of them had their memories at the time, Bruce and Ollie had found themselves at odds. They had been jealous of each other in their pursuit of their sexy companion. Ollie’s smile now was friendly, happy to share their best friend’s attention.

Bruce couldn’t say the same for himself. The pact, it wasn’t his preference, but he went along with it because it was Clark’s choice. Even when it came to sex, Clark wanted everyone to feel included. His attention was drawn back to Clark as he hummed around the other man’s erection. He watched as Clark tilted his head and licked his way up Ollie’s cock sideways, locking eyes with Bruce, running a wide tongue over the length giving him a visual. His eyes sparkled at him with wicked delight, and Bruce reflexively licked his lips in response. 

Clark moaned and covered the cock head again.

The blond let out a hitching moan, enjoying the blowjob. Bruce couldn’t blame him; he knew the feeling of those lips around his cock, how good at it he was. He reached down and adjusted the hardening length in his pants. 

He saw Clark’s hand reach for and squeeze his own crotch, getting off on sucking one of his friend’s cocks while the other watched on. Then Ollie was gasping, close to coming already and dragging Clark off and kissing him hungrily, before going for Clark’s zipper. Then Bruce cleared his throat and suggested, “The lounge isn’t the best place for this.”

The other two turned his way and then they smiled and nodded with agreement of his suggestion.

~*~

They headed up to Ollie’s bedroom. As they entered, Ollie switched the light on and then he pulled Clark into his embrace and continued their kisses. Bruce went and seated himself in an easy chair in the corner of the bedroom. He continued to observe. He wasn’t upset by their preoccupation with each other. Since they had got their memories back it had just been the two pairs of them usually, he couldn’t blame them acting as usual, although he wondered if their hunger now was usual when they were alone.

Ollie pressed down on Clark’s shoulders and Clark got the message and went to his knees for him, and continued his attention to the hard length of flesh. Oliver unbuttoned his own shirt, and then let it fall from his fit muscled torso. As his shirt fell to the carpeted floor, the blond moaned and began thrusting steadily into Clark’s mouth. Bruce heard Clark gag a little and cough and the sound went straight to his own erection that was beginning to tent his pants. 

His blond teammate’s gaze found him in the chair. He laughed hoarsely, “Oh boy, you have some willpower Bruce.”

There was a gulping noise and then Clark was pulling off and turning to look at him too.

Clark’s keen eyes found him. He saw a tremor run over his body, and then his best friend held his gaze seriously, and then Bruce watched him crawl over the bedroom floor towards him. If he’d been a big cat, he would’ve called it a prowling. He didn’t stop until his face was pressed into his tented crotch.

Bruce’s mouth opened in a silent cry as Clark opened his mouth around the trapped erection. His hands slowly gripped the arms of the chair. He tried to keep control of his veneer of detachment as long as he could, until Clark mouthed the words against his hardened flesh, “I can’t believe you agreed.”

It was true, Clark knew him as no one else did, and he knew he hated sharing him, but he wasn’t going to talk about this with an audience. He murmured back, “Make it worth it.”

The raven head unbowed and raised his face to him. Clark nodded with understanding, he stretched up, and he met him halfway, his lips found Bruce’s and he opened his mouth, and kissed him hard.

When they parted, Clark’s lips looked kiss bruised though it was impossible. 

His nostrils flared and then Clark reached for Bruce’s zipper. He lowered it purposefully. Reached in and brought his hard cock into the open, and then he wrapped his fucking beautiful lips around the head. Bruce’s resolve broke and his hand left the arm of the chair and caught the back of his head, his fingers twisted into the raven locks and he forced him down, and he made him open his throat and swallow the length of it.

Clark whined and gagged around it, but he took it. Bruce thrust his hips up, in as far as he could go, and felt the excess saliva dribble down his length to his balls. From across the bedroom, Ollie groaned with desire, “Fuck.”

Ollie slipped out of his shoes, socks, and boxers, and then Bruce watched him approach, saw the arousal of his other friend, and saw him fall to his knees behind Clark. Ollie’s hands found the hem of Clark’s t-shirt, he gathered it up, and it forced Clark to pull off to get it over his head. But once it was gone, it was Ollie’s hand that forced Clark back down onto Bruce’s cock. Clark whimpered but returned to the job at hand, and Ollie met Bruce’s gaze and smiled lecherously. Then the blond man’s hands caressed their friend’s muscled back and then around, and down and out of sight finding Clark’s waistband and his fingers busily unzipped and then pulled it loose and down to his knees. 

Ollie grasped Clark’s bare hips, lined up and then with a jerking motion, thrust up. Clark gasped, and Bruce glared at the blond. He warned, “You better not…”

Clark lifted his head and he smiled with wet lips, and leaned in and tried to kiss the glare away. He whispered against his lips, “He knows the rules, he’s just messing, just teasing.”

The blond millionaire grinned smugly, his hand around the base of his own cock, the head out of sight, “Yeah I’m teasing.” 

Clark groaned, bowing his head into Bruce’s lap, as Ollie pushed his cock head against Clark’s entrance. Bruce smiled viciously, “Don’t push your luck.”

They all knew that Bruce had Clark’s promise, including Ollie; who accused softly, “I still think you’re selfish.”

He nodded along, yeah he was, but not as selfish as he wanted to be. He lifted his best friend’s head from his lap, and he kissed him deeply. Clark hummed and opened his mouth wider for him. Bruce pulled back and whispered, though Ollie could hear, “Go, and fuck him Clark.”

Desire soaked was his face as Clark nodded, murmuring, “Okay Bruce.”

The blond archer smirked at him and mocked, “You don’t know what you’re missing top boy.”

As Ollie went to the night stand for precautions, Clark met Bruce’s eyes conspiratorially, what Clark and Bruce did in private was their own business, and Bruce intended to keep it that way. Bruce smiled softly and winked at him. His friend leaned in and kissed him. 

Ollie returned to stand next to them. Clark glanced between Bruce sitting there, and Oliver standing, his eyes devoured both their hard lengths. He hummed from deep in his throat, and then he reached out with both hands, taking one erection in each, and then he leaned forward and he sucked the head of the blond’s cock, pulled off and then he returned his mouth to Bruce’s, again he pulled off and then alternated between them. 

He and Ollie watched Clark savour them; sometimes they would catch each other’s eyes. Even now after so long since this began, when they had fucked Kit on that yacht together, after Kit and sucked them off just as now, it was still strange to know it was and to see Clark Kent doing it. Sexual confidence and a touch of wantonness didn’t make someone a bad person, Clark certainly wasn’t a bad person, and that he would feel confident and at ease doing this, showed his faith, his affection, and most of all his feeling safe in his two friends’ hands. 

Ollie groaned as his cock was expertly stimulated, and he flipped open the tube of lube in his hand. Bruce watched him press slick fingers to his own ass in preparation.

They might get off on seeing Clark on his knees sucking them off but Bruce knew how much both he and Ollie cared about Clark. It was the reason that Bruce was standing for this.

He reached out and he caressed Clark’s cheek with his thumb, and then he said again, “Go on, make him come.”

Clark nodded, and then he arose from his knees and he took Ollie’s hand and he led him to his own bed.

 

To be continued


	6. Dry Dock 2

TITLE: Bare Boating – Dry Dock 2  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce/Oliver  
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,720  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: The date continues.

~G~

Oliver let Clark lead him to the bed. He reached for the packet of condoms, got one out, and then presented his friend with it. Clark accepted it with a smile on his full lips. He unwrapped it and then he rolled it onto his aroused length. Oliver watched on intrigued and horny. He didn’t know why but ever since Clark, Bruce and himself had made their deal, to be fuck buddies half the fun was seeing Clark do all kinds of deliciously dirty things, not that those things were dirty per se but his Boyscout doing them made Clark putting on a condom just that. 

Oliver glanced across the bedroom to their partner in this ménage a trois. Seeing Clark get any sort of emotional or physical reaction out of Bruce was fun too. The intense man still seated in the easy chair in the corner of the bedroom, looked on impassively, watching Oliver and Clark get ready to fuck, impassive except for the sizable erection in his lap. An undeniable reaction to having Clark Kent’s lips around your cock, that’s what it was. 

If it wasn’t for the length of hard flesh Oliver might wonder why Bruce even agreed to this arrangement. He fought against it when they had amnesia on that damned boat, and he’s definitely fought it when they got their memories back. He wondered if he was doing this just to make Clark happy, the same reason Oliver had agreed to it. Not that sex with Clark wasn't phenomenal, because it was.

He smiled fondly at Clark as he leaned in and kissed his lips. Then Clark gently manoeuvred him, Oliver leaned over, and pressed his hands to the mattress and then crawled onto the bed, and readied himself. He felt Clark follow him on and come up behind him. He felt Clark’s cock against his already lubricated ass. He braced himself as that hard cock eased into him, the girth stretching him open. He groaned with arousal.

He couldn’t lie to himself, he had agreed to this for Clark, because he wanted them both, but he knew it wasn’t a hardship, incredible sex with his closest friend, no strings attached, a phone call away if he wanted, it was a no-brainer.

As Clark began thrusting, hitting his sweet spot, keeping him hard, and causing him to whine a little, his mind returned to Bruce over there watching. He knew Bruce had his pick of women, it was one of the great things about Bruce’s public persona, Oliver himself knew a bit about that, though not to the extent Bruce did. But as he’d said to Bruce earlier, from the outside it seemed he didn’t let himself enjoy it. The women were a chore to him. Oliver could almost understand, though the one thing Oliver could say was he only ever fucked women he really wanted to. 

He groaned, as Clark got in all the way, he knew his ass would be throbbing in the morning, but it was a sacrifice he was quite willing to bear. 

The sacrifice… ha! The funny thing was that ever since they started these trysts, he hadn’t had the get-up-and-go to make the effort with some women. Some women he’d have actually been interested in at any other time. The women hadn’t seemed to be worth the effort it would take to get them into bed, not with Clark on tap as it were. He wondered if it was the same for Bruce, was being with Clark bleeding away the opportunities for a normal steady relationship with someone else. 

Not that he had someone special in his lives at the moment anyway; Bruce didn’t either as far as he knew.

As the pleasure in his body took complete hold, he couldn’t think anymore. His whole focus was now Clark’s cock in his ass and his own hard cock. He was beginning to leak sweat, as he rocked back for it. His mind might’ve wandered before but his body was in the moment, his cock throbbed between his thighs, as Clark took him again and again. He wondered what they looked like to the man in the chair.

Focused as they were, he didn’t realise their partner had moved until, undressed now and fully naked Bruce took a seat on the bed, he sat up against the headboard. Their gazes met as Clark fucked him. Bruce pumped his cock slowly. During these trysts, Oliver and Bruce had never touched each other but Oliver couldn’t deny Bruce was a gorgeous man; it was just a pity about his austere personality, that’s what spoiled him. Clark had always been a serious type, but compared to Bruce he was laugh to be with. 

Casually Bruce reached out to the packet of condoms on the bed. As he tore the packet and rolled it on, Clark’s thrusts slowed, and Oliver could feel his cock flex inside him, knew he was watching Bruce too.

Then Bruce squirted some lube on his condom covered cock, reached out, and put the lube down again, and then he glanced up and looked their way. All he said was a low, “Clark.”

Clark groaned and it seemed to reverberate through his whole body to his cock inside Oliver’s ass. Then he withdrew gently, leaving Oliver empty and a little needy. Just like that, he went to his call. He crawled across the bed. Oliver watched as Clark gathered his large frame up, straddling Bruce, and then lowering himself down onto Bruce’s cock.

From the back, Oliver watched it gain entrance, watched it push slowly up into Clark’s ass. He pumped his own cock in response to that sight.

It was the one thing Bruce was selfishly being pig-headed about, on the boat with amnesia Byron had somehow talked Kit into only bottoming for him. And Clark being Clark was keeping that promise, and Bruce was keeping him to it. The selfish bastard.

However, it was a great view. Oliver lay along the bed and jerked himself off slowly to the show. Clark had a really sweet ass, the well-rounded globes of flesh as well as the sweet centre. He might not have had his cock up there but his tongue had. He watched the thick girth of flesh thrust in and out, watched as Clark rode it. He saw Bruce’s balls draw up. There were just things that your body revealed about you although you might wish it didn’t, and that kind of pleasure was one of them.

He heard them whispering breathily to each other but couldn’t hear the words. From the back, he saw Clark tilt his head and kiss Bruce, and Bruce’s hands stroked down Clark’s muscular back, almost tenderly. Then Clark lifted off, and turned and met Oliver’s gaze. His eyes took in Oliver observing them with his cock in hand. Clark grinned and asked, “Enjoying the view?”

Oliver matched his grin and nodded, “Absolutely, Clark.”

Although his face was flushed with arousal, he was too far gone into the moment and the pleasure to blush as he normally would. Instead, Clark motioned with his head. 

He let out a rumble of arousal, and he turned his body and he crawled up behind, and he bowed his head and licked slowly at Clark’s sweet ass. His friend let out a little moan of pleasure and then an even louder one. And when Clark jerked forward, Oliver realised Bruce was blowing him at the same time. Oliver smiled wickedly and redoubled his efforts on the relaxed entrance, savouring his ass. Clark cried out continuously, he reached back and grasped Oliver’s head, holding him there. He heard Bruce gag and then a muffled groan, and knew Clark was holding his head, keeping Bruce there too. Thrusting himself forward and rocking back for both of them. Oliver reached for Bruce’s hands on Clark’s hips, sending a signal to him. And when Clark whimpered, Oliver knew Bruce had got the point. He laughed, and he pointed his tongue and he fucked his friend’s ass with it. 

Clark held still then and let them eat him alive, and from the noises they all made, there was no doubt they were all enjoying it immensely.

He praised, “You have a perfect ass.”

Gutturally, Clark replied, “Yours isn’t so bad either.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah, I want to fuck it again.” he told him huskily.

Oliver groaned with arousal and then manoeuvred, flopped back and laid his head against the pillow, lying side by side with Bruce. Then Clark scooted in between Oliver’s thighs. He reached for a fresh condom and rolled it on.

He didn’t care what Bruce thought about him, he spread his thighs for Clark. He groaned as Clark lined up and pushed back inside him. He tilted his head and told Bruce again, “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

His friends raised an eyebrow, and grinned smugly respectively. 

Clark goaded with the grin still on his face, “Yeah Bruce.”

Bruce chuckled in response, reached out and smacked Clark’s flexing ass cheeks. Oliver laughed, it was amazing how some hot and heavy action could loosen a guy up, and he wasn’t thinking about himself. Clark grasped his thighs, and upturned his ass a little, the angle gave him full access to Oliver’s prostate. Time passed with Clark groaning in time with his thrusts, and with Oliver panting heavily, racing towards his orgasm with every thrust. Clark reached for and jerked Oliver’s cock for him, and he got even closer to coming.

He was surprised when his other friend leaned in and urged, “That’s right, come for him.”

Bruce’s interaction threw him off guard and over the edge; his come spurted out, as his body shuddered. He shuddered again as Clark withdrew carefully. He laughed with exhilaration, as he caught his breath. Then Bruce murmured, “Good boy.”

He lolled his head to the side, met his gaze, and smiled. He gazed at his lips, and then Bruce did the extraordinary, he leaned in and kissed him. Oliver groaned and opened his mouth for his until then hands off friend. Hmm Bruce was good; he didn’t know why he hadn’t done this before…

Suddenly they were yanked apart by an irresistible force. Oliver was shocked as he saw that Clark had pinned Bruce flat again the mattress, his hands on his wrists. His face radiated anger, and something else he couldn’t name as he snarled down at him, “What the hell are you doing?”

Bruce’s chest rose and fell, but he didn’t answer. Clark shook him against the mattress; he was between Bruce’s thighs, his hard cock resting at the place Bruce wouldn’t allow. The two naked aroused men stared intensely at each other. They all knew what the rules of this threesome were supposed to be, but Oliver couldn’t understand why one kiss had made Clark so angry.

The man behind the Bat, held Clark’s gaze, and said lowly, “Think about what you’re doing.”

Clark’s oceanic eyes blinked, he swallowed hard, and he glanced sideways at Oliver without actually meeting his eyes. Then suddenly, Clark released Bruce, and got off him and the bed. He walked naked over to the bedroom window, folded his arms across his broad chest, and gazed out at the nighttime Metropolis skyline. 

From the bed, Bruce watched him intently. There was still tension in Clark’s frame. Then Bruce glanced at Oliver, he didn’t say anything and Oliver couldn’t read the look on his face either. Bruce returned his gaze to Clark, and then he got off the bed. Naked, he approached Clark from behind, then slowly his arms encircled Clark’s waist. He saw the muscles in Clark’s body quiver, and then he heard Clark ask quietly, “Why?”

Bruce leaned in and laid his forehead against Clark’s shoulder, and said simply, “I don’t like the rules.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow at that. He knew Bruce had had a hard time with the setup but it was Clark’s reaction that was surprising. It was Clark’s idea for this pact between them. He didn’t usually have freak outs, quite happy to have fun and share.

Then Clark uttered over his shoulder, “Sorry for…”

Bruce whispered something into his ear, and then Clark nodded. He stepped away, and he came back over to the bed. He got on and then braced himself, presented himself to Bruce. Bruce followed, and then he stroked his cock, he lined up and he entered him, in one long push in. Clark whimpered quietly, and his body trembled.

Oliver lay there and watched, he didn’t know what this was all about but he knew to calm the situation he had to let them do whatever it was that they were doing.

He watched as Bruce held Clark’s hips, and thrust into him hard, and purposefully. He watched and heard Clark gasp out on every hard thrust. Bruce ran his hand up Clark’s back and grasped his shoulder and his thrusts got even harder. Oliver saw Clark wince, grind his teeth, and bow his head, his hair falling into his eyes. Oliver swallowed hard, he hadn't known, still didn't know if Clark was vulnerable when it came to sex, right now it sure looked that way. He reached out and he covered Clark’s hand with his own. Clark glanced sideways and this time he met his gaze. Oliver frowned and mouthed, “Are you okay?”

At that moment, Bruce got even harder, and Clark tensed his jaw, but he nodded at Oliver in response to his query. 

Oliver was still unsettled. Was this supposed to be some kind of pay back for Clark’s angry response before? If it was, Oliver didn’t like it. This time together was supposed to be a fun thing, and this was too serious for his liking. He would stop this right now if it weren’t for Clark’s hard cock heavy between his legs, evidence that at some level Clark liked it.

They were panting harshly now, as it seemed all that mattered was coming, heading furiously for the finish line. Although Oliver had come already, he found the sight of them still arousing. Suddenly Bruce let out a restrained yell, “Yes." as his body tremored. 

Clark keened quietly, and then Bruce was dragging him upright. Clark turned his head and their mouths met over his shoulder hungrily. Bruce reached down and gave Clark’s cock a couple of jerks, and then Clark was trembling through his orgasm. The kiss continued through his moans. 

Finally, the kiss quietened, and then Clark smiled at the other brunet between lazy kisses. Bruce sighed noisily and then his lips turned up and he smiled softly at him in return.

The tension that had pervaded the air was gone, and relieved, Oliver chuckled, “Wow, is that what you two do when I’m not there?”

The two brunets turned his way. One pinched his lips with what looked like annoyance, but the other blinked and then shook his head bashfully, “Not quite.” 

Oliver studied them, neither was in the mood for questions and then motioned with his head, “Let’s get cleaned up.”

The other two nodded with agreement.

Later they settled in Oliver’s bed, it was a big bed and none of them felt like cheapening the experience by anyone slinking off as soon as the sex was over. 

~*~

In the early hours, Oliver awoke not used to sharing his bed on a regular basis. He opened his eyes, and even in the darkness of his bedroom, he couldn’t miss the gap between him and the nearest warm body. It wasn’t a huge gap, but it was there. Curiously, he switched on his lamp. 

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, seeing the gap was caused by Clark’s gravitation to Bruce’s side of the bed. Bruce even had a strong arm around Clark’s waist as he spooned him from behind. He hadn’t even realised that Bruce was a cuddling type.

He smirked, and thought about using it against him the next time they had a disagreement.

He reached for the lamp and turned off the light, and went back to sleep.

 

To be continued


	7. Chapter 7

TITLE: Dry Dock 3  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,951  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark begins to realise the truth about his relationships.

~*~

Clark awoke the next morning, in the warmth of Oliver Queen’s bed, and to the morning sun peeking through the penthouse bedroom windows. Except, the man who’s bed it was had obviously already gotten up. Dozily he blinked and then his eyes closed again, almost drifting off back to sleep until he heard the contented sigh from behind him. Clark smiled and snuggled back against the warm hard body pressed to his back. Another sigh escaped his bed companion’s lips. 

Clark murmured, “I think we worried poor Oliver last night.”

Sleepily Bruce replied, “We… you’re the one…”

He cut him off, “We worried him because you had to save face and go all alpha male, and I let you.”

Soft lips surrounded by a hint of morning stubble kissed his bare shoulder, Clark squirmed at the tickle, and Bruce’s arm tightened around him so he couldn’t get away. “Well I’d say you were the one that pinned me to the bed, and undermined my macho image…”

Clark laughed softly.

Bruce continued in a whisper, “Because you were jealous.”

His laughter patted out, and he swallowed and revealed softly, “I didn’t like it.”

“I know.”

He asked what he had wondered last night, “You did it on purpose huh?”

His friend was silent but he could feel his forehead and steady warm breath against his shoulder. He wondered again, “You wanted me to know how it feels.”

“Yeah.” He admitted breathily.

“You hate the threesomes that much?”

Again, he got no answer and Clark turned his upper body and meeting his friend’s eyes, regarded him. He saw the emotion he’d learnt to decipher there before Bruce shrugged, “It’s what you wanted, not me.”

He gazed at him. He understood that Bruce had never wanted to share him. Except it wasn’t that simple, it was only after the incident on the yacht and the fact that they’d already shared him while they all had amnesia that he’d found out that either of his friends had wanted him at all. He remembered Bruce’s reaction when they’d got their memories back, how he’d pulled away from him emotionally, if Clark hadn’t suggested they continue the threesome he believes that Bruce would never have instigated any other kind of relationship with him, and the memory of what happened on the boat would’ve put their friendship into an irrevocably poor state. And that would’ve been an intolerable thing, as far as Clark was concerned.

He gazed into those eyes, and slowly he leaned in and he kissed his friend. He was gratified when Bruce returned the kiss, opening his mouth for him. Clark smiled into it and turned fully onto his back. Bruce cupped his face with both hands and followed him until they were pressed body to body again, chest to chest now. The kiss was slow and sleepy, and everything that Clark wanted.

He wished they could go further but felt it would be cheeky to do so in Oliver’s bed, without him there. He chuckled, and broke the kiss lingeringly and suggested, “Let’s get a shower and go down for breakfast.”

Bruce playfully grumbled his agreement.

~*~

After showering and redressing, Clark and Bruce went downstairs and entered the kitchen to find Oliver was cooking. He glanced up, and greeted them, “Morning. Eggs anyone?”

They both nodded, and Oliver served some out on to some plates. The bread in the toaster popped up. He buttered them and then put the slices of toast in a pile for them to help themselves. Clark and Bruce took their seats. With friendliness, Bruce taunted, “Didn’t know you gave full service, Ollie.”

Oliver pooched his lips, and nodded saying wryly, “Didn’t know you were into cuddling, Bruce.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed at the jibe and he turned to gaze at Clark. Clark chuckled, and shrugged, “Well you are.”

His annoyed friend rolled his eyes, and reached for a fork. Clark continued smiling and met Oliver’s gaze. He saw a question in Oliver’s eyes. In response, he said aloud, “We’re good.”

His brunet friend glanced between them, his mouth full of egg. He chewed and then asked, “Is there a problem?”

His blond friend shrugged, “That’s what I wanted to know.”

Bruce’s keen eyes weighed them up, and then he nodded, “Everything is fine.”

Oliver said, “Last night was a little intense.”

Clark met Bruce’s gaze again. Yes, last night had been intense and Clark had let Bruce play at the dominance thing for Oliver’s benefit, and to save face but it had put Oliver on alert for something that wasn’t a normal representation of their relationship, just as the jealousy instigating Clark’s pinning Bruce to the bed wasn’t either.

Then Bruce stated with quiet emphasise, “I’d never hurt him.”

“I never said you would.” Oliver denied.

To lighten the atmosphere, Clark taunted, “Don’t worry I’ll get my own back sooner or later.”

He watched as Oliver’s eyes widened, at the same time, Bruce scrunched his face up in a ‘Don’t you tell him that’ expression.

Then Oliver laughed as the idea dawned on him, “Oh my god. You total faker.” he accused Bruce.

Bruce looked agitated and bashful at the same time knowing that he’d been caught out. Then he straightened his shoulders and owned it, “You know how good he is, couldn’t pass that up.”

Clark felt a combination of flattered and smug, and he puffed up his chest. Bruce caught his gaze and shook his head, and said playfully, “You’re in trouble.” 

He couldn’t help himself, he leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips and denied, “No you are.”

Bruce quirked his lips and shook his head again, and returned to his eggs.

Clark’s gaze returned to Oliver who was looking on with a little bit of confusion, and a little bit of awe on his face. Clark realised that it was the first time any of them had shown any sexually connected affections out of context of their sexual liaisons. The night before had never spilled into the next morning, and didn’t occur again until the next fun interlude. Except, that rule had never really applied to him and Bruce, because when he and Bruce parted ways in the morning it was always with a goodbye kiss, it had just felt natural to do. 

It was just that Oliver had never done that or witnessed that, and to him it was weird.

His brunet friend reached for some toast, and munched it regardless. He asked, “Is there some coffee?”

Oliver blinked and nodded, and reached for the pot and poured the coffee for all of them. Clark reached for his and took a sip, while hoping Oliver didn’t question it vocally. It was kind of a minefield, a minefield that he didn’t want to stray across, especially not this early in the morning, especially after dodging it hitting the fan last night.

Luckily, Oliver seemed to let it go, as he started on his own eggs. Clark smiled to himself in relief, and tucked into his own eggs, toast, and coffee.

~*~

After breakfast, Clark and Bruce got their jackets, as they were preparing to leave. As Clark got his glasses out of his pocket and slipped them on, he asked Oliver, “Are you heading back to Star City today?”

His blond friend nodded, “Yeah, this was only supposed to be a day visit, but I couldn’t resist staying over.”

Clark was gratified hearing that. He revealed, “I had a great time.”

Oliver grinned, “Me too, I won’t bother asking you Bruce. You’ll just pretend you didn’t.”

Bruce grumbled, “See you soon Ollie.”

Then they headed out.

Clark and Bruce rode down in the elevator of the tall old building. They were standing across from each other without saying anything. Then Clark smiled and asked, “Guess you’ll be heading off too?”

His friend gazed at him a long moment, and then suggested, “How about I give you a ride home?”

He cocked his brow and joked, “You remember who I am, don’t you.”

Bruce didn’t reply he just gazed at him.

Clark’s smile crept onto his face, and he nodded shortly, “Okay.”

~*~

As they pulled up outside Clark’s apartment building, Clark opened the door and got out. He was amused when so did Bruce. He smiled secretly to himself, wondering what Bruce was planning. He entered the elevator, and when the doors closed, he turned to meet Bruce’s gaze again. They held each other’s gazes. Then Clark murmured, “What’s going on?”

Finally, Bruce smiled leeringly, “I thought maybe you could get your own back on me right now.”

Clark gazed at him with mock astonishment.

Bruce gazed back, and whispered, “The choice is yours. What’re you going to do?”

His cock twitched inside his pants at the goad, he leaned in and whispered, “How about I show you what you get when you try to break my invulnerable ass.”

His dark sexy friend nodded, and reached down and cupped Clark’s crotch, squeezing it, “Whatever you want to do, baby is fine with me.”

Clark shuddered out a breath.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened, and they set off down the hall to Clark’s apartment. He unlocked the door and let it swing open.

As his best friend entered his apartment, Clark acted on his urges. He shut the door behind him, and then he came up behind him and grasped his arm, Bruce’s attention darted to him and his nostrils flared and then suddenly they were on each other, and Clark walked him backwards, stumbling over to the closest flat surface. 

Bruce pulled out of the fierce embrace and turned way; Clark pulled him back against him, covering his back, and grinding against his ass, biting softly his neck. 

Bruce arched back, bearing his neck for him, but denying at the same time, “Not like this, Clark.”

He smiled against the flesh of his neck, “Then like what?”

He turned in his arms and smiled with knowingness and tenderness, “Let’s go to bed.”

He returned the smile with an excited one.

Bruce reached up and took Clark’s glasses off his face, and then he took his hand and he led him to his own bedroom.

~*~

They pulled each other’s clothes off furiously. Then naked Bruce watched him from the bed as he got some lube out of the night table drawer, he could tell by his body language that his best friend was so ready for this. He met his gaze again and smiled, and crawled on the bed. 

Damn he was going to make this man who he let go all alpha on him last night beg for more. 

He demanded huskily, “On your hands and knees.”

Bruce’s pink tongue darted out teasingly, and then he turned himself over, and pushed himself up to his hands and knees.

Clark took in Bruce’s position and let out a rumble from his throat. 

He caressed Bruce’s muscular back, grasped, and kneaded the strong muscles there, and then he ran his hands down his body. He grasped Bruce’s powerful hips and dragged him closer to him. Bruce had to brace his hands so he wouldn’t lose his balance. Clark kept his eyes on him as he rolled a condom on, and then uncapped the lube, and he slicked his cock with it.

Then Bruce reached behind and helped spread some more slickness against himself, joining Clark’s fingers as they pushed into his ass.

Then Bruce turned his head and watched him as Clark watched himself line up to his needy centre. 

Clark took a steadying breath just as his cock opened him up. Bruce cried softly with every inch, and he jerked his own cock hard until he was fully inside, and then he braced both his hands again on the mattress.

Clark’s cock flexed within the divine tightness, he breathed heavily, he wanted to just take this hot beautiful body, but the allure of having him asking for it, begging for it would make it even sweeter, having this man, his best friend, who had fucked him so relentlessly last night, yielding to him instead. He stopped thrusting, and kissed his lover’s shoulder and then urged, “Say it.”

“Oh god. Don’t tease me Clark, just give it to me.” Bruce pleaded quietly.

He smiled smugly.

Before he could take up the rhythm again, Bruce bucked back hard onto his cock. Clark grunted in response. 

Did he think he could give in and still be in charge?

He narrowed his gaze at the challenge. He firmly held Bruce’s hips and began thrusting quickly into him, the thrusts getting harder, until Bruce was straining not to cry out. Bruce spread his knees further apart, and he balanced one handed and he reached under him and jerked his cock. 

Although he had delighted in fucking him in this primal position, he really wanted to look into his eyes now, and see for himself his hard cock that obviously needed his attention. Clark withdrew slowly, watching his cock slide out, he watched Bruce’s centre spasm with the emptiness. God it was fucking amazing. 

He really wanted to get back in there.

He flipped him over onto his back.

Laying on the bed naked together, he locked gazes with a flushed looking Bruce Wayne and saw that look in his eyes again, the one that he had learnt to decipher. He knew what those eyes were saying to him.

He gave him a flicker of a warm smile, then got some more lube, and slicked his cock again. 

His gorgeous man groaned and spread his legs eagerly, wanting it. Then he lined up, Bruce's hands gripped Clark’s forearms as Clark pushed back inside him, slowly but all the way in with one long slow thrust. 

He began his rhythm again, hard but slow.

Bruce reached for and stroked his own cock, and his ass let Clark in a bit more.

They carried on; it could’ve been minutes, felt like hours, felt like not long enough.

He was so close to coming when Bruce’s fingers slipped between Clark’s ass cheeks, his fingertips massaging his perineum, his thumb pressing against asshole.

Indignantly Clark slapped Bruce’s ass. Bruce moaned loudly. Clark laughed internally, and slapped his ass again. 

Bruce gazed up at him and gasped out, “Why the hell did you slap me?”

He told him off playfully, but with an underlying seriousness, “You’re being taught a lesson Mr Wayne.” 

Clark withdrew and then thrust back inside him hard and fast. Bruce flung his head back and cried out, and arched against the bed in response. “Yes!” he moaned. 

“You like me to fuck you?” he asked huskily.

Bruce laughed a delightful laugh, his eyes sparkling, as he playfully he told him, “You know that already.” 

He thrust again hard and chuckled, “Yeah I know.”

Bruce tensed his jaw, and lifted his hand and pressed it to Clark’s abdomen, and he stopped Clark’s motions. When Clark stilled, Bruce grasped Clark’s hips and began slowly guiding him, fucking himself slowly with Clark’s cock. Gazing down, Clark moaned loudly, at the view and also the slow burn it was causing inside his body.

He took up the slow rhythm and their bodies met again and again. It was no longer about playing the dominance game it became sensual and meaningful and real instead.

Clark leaned in and gasped in his ear, “Oh baby that’s right, I love your ass, I love…” he buried his mouth against Bruce’s neck, forcing himself not to say what he almost said.

Bruce whined softly, and he breathed next to his ear, “Me too.”

Clark lifted his head and met his gaze; he leaned in again and kissed him slowly as he continued to share this pleasure with his friend.

~*~

The low intermittent noise roused them from their sleep. Bruce grumbled, “Something’s beeping.”

He sniggered with his eyes still closed, “I don’t need you to tell me there’s a noise.” He reached out to the night table, saying, “It’s my commlink.” He tapped at it, knowing he could hear the message without putting it into his ear, now he knew to focus in on it. 

He groaned as he heard the alert. Beside him, Bruce echoed his groan, “What?”

“We’re needed.”

“Me too?”

He smiled affectionately, “Yeah you too.”

Bruce sighed loudly. He knew because he was in Metropolis, Bruce was using it as an excuse to take a few hours off at least, if not the day. Clark knew he was disappointed, so was he. Then Bruce sighed again, “Fuck it.” then he flung the bedclothes away, and forced himself to get up.

Now uncovered as well, Clark sat up and swung his legs around and sat on the edge of the bed, and watched Bruce get dressed. As he fastened up his jeans, Bruce grumbled, “Now I have to get all the way back to the cave and get my suit.”

Clark ran his fingers through his head, and suggested, “I’ll speed you there if you want.”

“What about my car?” he asked slipping into his shirt.

He smiled, “You could come back here afterwards, or I could bring it to you.”

Bruce smiled as he buttoned his shirt, “Careful, too often and we might start thinking this is something serious.”

He half smiled in return, “We wouldn’t want that would we?”

Bruce regarded him for a long moment, and then broke his gaze away and scouted around for his shoes. 

 

To be continued


	8. Chapter 8

TITLE: Dry Dock 4  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,826  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: There’s a revelation about the friends relationships.

~*~

They blurred to a stop in the cave. Still in each other’s arms, Bruce reached behind him and switched the reset button on the security system. Superman gazed at him so close, and Bruce gazed right back. Then Superman leaned in and kissed him softly, just as softly, he whispered, “See you up there.” as he released him from his embrace.

Bruce nodded, and then leaned in and kissed him goodbye.

Then Superman returned to super-speed, making his way to the Watchtower, while Bruce headed for his changing area for the Batsuit.

~*~

The streets were cordoned off, as some of his teammates tried to keep the ordinary citizens out of danger and so the Justice League could concentrate on what the task at hand was. 

The mechanical spider was not exactly rampaging but working its way through the streets with no regard for public safety or public property, crushing cars, scraping past buildings. Superman was floating starboard of it, using his x-ray vision trying to find out if it was a robot – remote controlled, a sentient computer, or a simple vehicle with a driver. The citizens, who had lost their cars under one of its eight feet, probably didn’t give a shit as long as it was stopped, and their insurance paid out, but finding these things out mattered. Being able to follow a signal back to the controller if there was one, or was there a life to remove from within the metal, or if it was sentient was there any more of them on the way. 

However by coincidence or design the carapace section was covered in lead, and he couldn’t see inside. He tapped his commlink, now in his ear, “B.”

“Go ahead S, what’s the deal?” Batman replied.

“That’s a negative on the x-ray vison.” He revealed. Then he called, “Arrow is the area clear?”

“You have the go ahead, we’re clear on this end, Boyscout.” Green Arrow replied.

Superman checked out the robotic spider again, and offered suggestions, “Take out the legs and bring it down here, or I could remove it and set it down somewhere more isolated, what do you suggest B?”

Batman questioned, “You think you can get in that close?”

“Yeah I think so, it’s not been bothered about my presence so far, maybe it is just a robot…”

Before Superman could finish speaking, a wave of darts shot out from the back, showering him. As they rained past him, he felt his power begin to short circuit, and as a dart got snagged on his cape, he began falling out of the sky. He gritted his teeth and using that last reserve of power, he shot out a laser like glare and cut off a couple of the spiders legs. 

He hit the hard blacktop, landing in a heap he felt something snap, the shower of darts hit it too, surrounding him in a hundred small but potent green spikes. He watched the robot lumber on with his remaining six limbs, jerky but still moving. He groaned, and through gritted teeth, “I’m down, B.”

His teammate replied, “I’ve got it in sight.”

Then Superman heard the growl of the powerful engine, just before he saw the black armoured vehicle rocket past. He saw the Batmobile drive under the spider between its remaining legs, he saw projectiles shoot out and attach to each of those six legs. The vehicle drifted around the last leg, and then began heading in Superman’s direction, as the explosive charges went off, and the robotic spider fell haphazardly to its knees in a cloud of smoke.

The black car came to a screeching halt a dozen feet away. The door opened and Batman got out. Helpless, Superman met his gaze through the eyeholes of the cowl with his own pain wracked ones. He saw Batman’s mouth twist in anguish as he mouthed ‘Clark’, before heading for him.

Superman saw it happen, but couldn’t stop it from happening. As the spider collapsed, it shot out a laser that hit the Batmobile, and the force of it tossed the black car on its side and straight into an unsuspecting Batman, and knocked him and the car across the width of the street. 

Superman screamed as much as the Kryptonite induced pain would allow. He watched for a moment hoping to see some movement from across the street. But when there was none, he gritted his teeth with determination, braced his hands, and then he began dragging himself over the Kryptonite darts, dragging his feeble leg that he thinks was that thing that snapped during his fall from the sky. He pulled himself towards the black vehicle, calling, “Batman!”

There was no reply.

He kept going, felt sticky blood soak his blue uniform bottoms. He felt the agony of the darts sticking into him, but still he dragged himself. He saw the veins on the back of his hands roil and crawl under his skin as his blood was boiled by the radiation from the meteor fragments, his fingers becoming sore against that rough surface of the street as he clawed across it. He saw the still black clad figure come into sight and called out, “B?”

Again there was no reply.

All around him, he could hear movement and voices, but they were distant, and unreachable and unimportant. There was only one important thing. The pain tore at him, he cried, tears in his eyes and in his voice, “Bruce!”

He saw the jerky movement of his gloved hand, before his cowl covered head tilted and then look up and met his gaze. He saw him wince, and saw his eyes were almost pained as Clark’s were. He saw him take in the state Superman was in, Batman cried, “Don’t, wait don’t move please…”

He watched Batman struggle valiantly to his feet, saw him grasp his side, and almost fold again. He took a few feet towards him before he stumbled, and fell to his hands and knees. Even though he’d managed to crawl over the darts, he was still useless, still feeling the effects, Superman grimaced and despite his agony began dragging himself closer again. Batman fought his own pain and began crawling on his hands and knees towards him. 

The expense to both of them was brutal, they all but collapsed a couple feet away, and then both reached out until their fingertips brushed each other’s. Superman gasped out softly, “Are you okay?”

Batman asked desperately, “How can you ask, I don’t matter I’ve got to get that damned Kryptonite dart off your cape.”

He thought that’s why he couldn’t get away from the pain, his mind too impaired to remember about it. However, before Bruce could get himself together for another attempt to move. Black boots came to a stop next to him, Clark recognised them, and he felt a hand tug the dart caught on his cape off. he pleaded, "Don't remove it."

Green Arrow asked, "Why...?"

"I think I've broken my leg, it needs to be set before I heal."

"Shit I didn't think of that."

Batman grimaced, and he struggled but reached into his utility belt, and withdrew the sample of blue Kryptonite that Clark had given him in case of a serious crisis. He offered it, and then spoke through grinding teeth, "Now get that damned dart away from him."

Green Arrow did as he was asked, throwing the dart on the pile with the others. He knew his teammates would clear them away. Exhausted he glanced up and said wryly, “I think we need some help.”

Green Arrow snorted sarcastically, “You can say that again.”

Batman inquired, “Is that thing neutralised?”

Arrow nodded, “Yeah, and Winslow Schott is in handcuffs.”

Superman cringed, “It was Toyman?”

Their hooded teammate suggested, “Come on, let’s get you in the plane and then up to sickbay.”

~*~

Later, in sickbay he met Bruce’s gaze from the other bed. Bruce was still in pain, his ribs fractured, and a loose bandage was around his chest, to help restrict his movements while they healed. However, it was Bruce who asked, “You feeling okay now?”

He smiled at his consideration for him. He nodded, “Yeah, just need some solar energy to fix this broken leg, then I’ll be as good as new.”

He offered back the blue Kryptonite, and Bruce accepted it and put it away in his utility belt.

Bruce motioned to the temporary splint on Clark’s leg, “I suppose that’s so your leg heals in the right position…”

Just then, Green Arrow entered with his hood down, he gazed at the two of them, and he said to Clark, “You want to get some sun?”

He nodded, “Sure.” He returned his gaze to Bruce, and echoed Bruce’s previous question, “You okay?”

His dark haired friend nodded, “Go on.”

As they left sickbay, he saw Oliver glance back at Bruce and then smirk.

~*~

On the observation deck, Clark had taken up a position in front of the large window facing the sun’s direction. As the sun’s unobstructed rays bathed him, he felt his leg heal, felt the ordinarily slow process of his bone knitting together happen almost instantaneously. He was grateful for his healing ability, especially in a situation such as this, felt a touched embarrassed knowing Bruce was in sickbay and it would take weeks for his ribs to heal completely. 

It was quiet, too quiet; he turned and saw his other friend watching him in silence. Then Oliver said, “It’s always amazing seeing that.”

He smiled and shrugged, “It’s not like you can see it happening.”

Oliver denied, “Yeah you can, anyone who knows to look can see the power return to your body, you almost glow.”

He shook his head in denial.

His friend replied, “Yes, ask Bruce, I bet he notices it.”

Clark smirked, “Bruce notices everything.”

Oliver rolled his eyes, and turned towards the window and looked out, “Yeah, more than I do I guess.”

He returned to look out the window too, commenting, “It’s his thing.”

His blond friend was quiet again, so Clark was too.

Then quietly Oliver uttered, “I think it’s time we packed up this ‘friends with benefits’ thing.”

Clark frowned and glanced around at his friend, he swallowed hard, “Why, is something wrong, I mean I know that thing last night upset you but…”

Oliver pursed his lips, and admitted, “You’re right, I was uncomfortable, but before that I was considering some missed opportunities.”

He echoed, “Missed opportunities… you mean with other people…” his mind strayed to Oliver returning Bruce’s kiss eagerly, he swallowed hard at the thought of it, he asked, “You don’t mean Bruce do you?”

He saw the amusement light up Oliver’s eyes before he denied, “No, no not Bruce…” he turned his back and paced away and Clark heard him chuckle. 

With confusion Clark asked, “Oliver what’s so funny?”

His friend met his gaze and grinned, “You know Clark, it’s been a hell of a ride being able to share you with Bruce. I’ve really enjoyed it, but I think it’s about time he got you all to himself.”

With shock, confusion and a sense of optimism, Clark asked, “You think Bruce and I…?”

Oliver folded his arms over his chest and smirked, “I might’ve been blind for a while now, but I was actually sort of figuring it out before what I saw today.”

Clark’s brow creased.

His friend explained wryly, “When he was hurt, I saw you drag yourself through green Kryptonite to get to him. I saw him force himself up, despite his injuries to try to help you.”

His eyes widened, of course, he remembered it happening, but it had felt like him and Bruce were the only ones in the world. He bowed his head, embarrassed imagining what his desperation had looked like to his teammates looking on. Then he felt Oliver’s fingers cupping his cheek, and lifting until they had eye contact. His dear friend comforted, “Don’t worry about it Boyscout. I just wanted you to understand, why I understand.”

He gave him a small tight smile, “Do you?”

Oliver nodded, “I understand why you wanted to have fun for once, always understood that. Now I finally understand why Bruce thought it was a bad idea, and then why he finally agreed.” Oliver stroked his cheek tenderly, “And I now understand why you were so angry when Bruce kissed me.”

He didn’t deny it, he nodded, “I’m a hypocrite huh?”

His friend encouraged, “Not on purpose though. If I loved someone like that I wouldn’t want to see them with some else either.”

Shamed, Clark uttered a confession, “Neither did Bruce, he put up with it as long as he didn’t see us.”

Oliver concurred, “He’s been too patient for too long.”

Clark nodded, “Are you going to be okay Oliver?”

He smiled warmly, “I’ll be fine. You’re going to be one hell of an act to follow, you know that.”

He leaned in and kissed him one last time, Oliver smiled into the kiss, “My Boyscout.”

Clark replied, “Always.”

As they pulled away slowly, they became aware, and then turned their heads and then they saw Bruce standing there, one arm clenched around his poorly ribs. But that wasn’t the pain that was in his eyes. He tensed his jaw and then he headed back out the door without saying a word. 

When he was gone, Clark turned to Oliver, and his blond friend nodded, “You know what to do.”

Clark smiled, and nodded. He headed for the door, but then he turned back and he told his friend, “You know I love you too.”

Oliver chuckled, “Yeah I know, I love you, but you’re in love with him.” he motioned with his head, “Go.”

~*~

As Clark headed in the direction of sickbay, he met Black Canary heading the other way, she asked, “Have you seen Arrow, Boyscout?”

He nodded, “He’s on the observation deck.”

As he continued, Dinah called, “Thanks, hey Boyscout, I hope you’d crawl over Kryptonite for me too.”

He grinned bashfully and half joked, “For any of my team.”

Dinah laughed and winked, “Yeah-yeah I know.”

He tilted his head in question, and Dinah smirked and said knowingly, “I think Bruce just headed home.”

It looked as though, they had outed themselves in full view of all their teammates. He took a deep breath and said, “Thanks.”

Then he set off to Wayne Manor.

~*~

He found him in the cave, as he knew he would. Even injured, almost crushed by his own car, he wouldn’t give in. He noticed the Batmobile was back on its plinth, looking none the worse for wear despite its acrobatics. Bruce didn’t acknowledge him at first; he just reached out and pressed the reset button on the security system.

Clark smiled and joked, “You should find a way so I don’t set off the alarm in the future.”

Bruce shrugged noncommittedly, “Maybe.”

He started forward saying, “You left the observation deck so quickly…”

“There wasn’t much to stay for.”

“Bruce, I think you misunderstood what you saw, Oliver and I…”

“I know what I saw, I know you do it, but I told you I don’t like seeing it.”

Clark’s heart fluttered, and he smiled and approached, “Because you get jealous.”

Bruce stood up abruptly, and winced and held his side. Clark winced in sympathy and he reached out, but then fidgeted instead. “Sorry… are you okay?”

“Stop asking that.”

He sighed and then he told him, “That kiss between Oliver and me, it wasn’t what you thought, it was a farewell kiss.”

Bruce’s brow creased and he queried, “A farewell kiss?”

He nodded, “I mean neither of us is going anywhere…” He rolled his eyes at himself, “We’re still going to be working in the team…” He bowed his head and glanced at the floor, “I mean we’re always going to be friends but… we’re not going to do that anymore.” He glanced up and met Bruce’s eyes, and he smiled tentatively, “I’m all yours.”

He saw Bruce’s eyes widen, hearing those words.

Clark smiled hopefully, “If you want me.”

He saw Bruce’s chest rise and fall, but he didn’t reply.

He believed he knew how Bruce felt for him, but he needed the confirmation. He whispered, “Do you want me?”

He saw a shudder go through Bruce’s body, and then he blinked rapidly and then nodded.

Clark’s relieved smile spread across his face. Then he took the first eager step forward, and Bruce warned, “Don’t hurt me.”

He took the last step in, and he wrapped his arms around his friend’s hurt body and gently hugged him to him, he whispered against his neck, “Never again.”

 

The end


End file.
